


Forever Mine

by sabbathgoat



Category: Mötley Crüe, The Dirt (2019), The Dirt: Confessions of the World's Most Notorious Rock Band Book - Mötley Crüe & Neil Strauss
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Anxiety, Biting, Collars, Crushes, Cuddling, Drugs, Hair-pulling, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Masturbation, Obsessive Behavior, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rough Sex, Sort Of, Threesome - M/M/M, Voyeurism, can be read as either movie or not
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:40:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 44,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22871878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabbathgoat/pseuds/sabbathgoat
Summary: Nikki Sixx met a man in the 70's, and all he got was his name.He met him again in 1981, and vowed to keep him at his side for the rest of their fucked up lives. His name had changed to Mick Mars, and Nikki was certain of two things: he was the love of Nikki's life, and that tight ass belonged only to him.
Relationships: Mick Mars/Nikki Sixx, Tommy Lee/Mick Mars/Nikki Sixx
Comments: 39
Kudos: 51





	1. A Man Named Bob

**Author's Note:**

> A story through the years about Nikki Sixx meeting Mick Mars and falling a little too much in love! I hope you guys enjoy<3

Frank Feranna knew he was obsessed with only two things in the year of 1977: drinking alcohol, and playing bass. They were his personal specialties. He was also absolutely, one hundred percent certain about only two facts in the world as well: he hated his mom, and was going to be a fucking rockstar one day. It was just those four things in his wild life that got him through the 70's, and with the new year rolling just around the corner, he could feel a change in the winds. He felt something brewing on the horizon of L.A., and patiently awaited its call.

Turned out, that call was some guy a couple years older than him waltzing in on heels to the piece of shit liquor store Frank worked at. He looked up from his seat behind the counter where he was using his knife to slowly peel pieces of paint off the wood siding, and felt his heart skip a beat when he saw him. The strange man stopped at the door to close it behind him instead of letting the glass slam shut like everyone else did. He looked to Frank through an impressive wave of obsidian bangs and offered a polite ' _hey,'_ to him before stalking towards the ever-so-popular aisle two. Frank wanted to return the greeting but was left staring at him with a wide eyed gaze. The guy was dressed in leather pants, knee high leather boots with four inch heels, a leather jacket, and a black t-shirt with a design Frank didn't even get a chance to look at.

Frank didn't think he would only be 22 when he experienced a heart attack. But yep, his chest was definitely frozen solid at the moment. His mouth hung awkwardly agape as he watched the fine specimen before him saunter down the aisle towards the vodka section, and didn't start breathing again until his view of the dude's fine ass disappeared from sight. _Fuck_ , not even speed got him that much adrenaline... Frank wiped at his suddenly dry mouth and felt his heart start to race idiotically as if it was trying to catch up to the lost time.

Frank could hear the strange man pick up two bottles of something from the shelf, and he sat higher in his chair with a nervous sniff through his nose. The store was silent- the stereo having been broken for a week, and not a single customer in the building besides the guy. Frank listened to those boots on the tile floor take lingering steps around as if debating on his choice, until they were quiet for a second. Then finally the loud heels signaled he was headed back to the counter. Fuck, Frank felt anxiety explode in his guts as they got closer. His now manic mind couldn't wait to just steal another look at the mysterious rocker...

Yet again the man appeared as he rounded the corner and took a confident stride towards Frank.

"U-uh, hi," Frank stuttered like a child as he watched the guy stand only feet away from him and set his two large bottles on the counter top- one tequila, and one vodka. The bassist wondered if they were both for him. He didn't exactly strike Frank as the alcoholic type, but that might have been because he was too distracted by those icy blue eyes and jet black hair...

"Hey man," He greeted Frank back with half a smile that seemed a little too tired, meeting his gaze for a second before pawing at his ass for his wallet. The intense stare, despite lasting less than a second, was enough to strike up a cold sweat over Frank's skin. He suddenly remembered he had an actual job to do, and fumbled to ring up his drinks with unsteady hands.

"It's uh, forty-two fifty," He had to clear his throat and cursed himself for sounding so doped up despite being painfully sober.

The guy opened his wallet and handed Frank two twenties and a ten dollar bill, all old as dirt and worn out. Frank took them carefully, as not to accidentally brush his fingers against the other's. The nails were extremely well kept, and Frank wondered if he played anything. The dude sure as hell looked like it... He tried his best to focus only on counting the right change out in the drawer so he didn't embarrass himself, and not the captivating man staring at him from the corner of his vision. As soon as Frank was sure he got the money right, he took the coins and held them out in a closed palm. His heart skipped a few too many beats for comfort when the dude held his own hand out to take them, and his fingers lightly touched the younger man's. He shoved the money in his front pocket, muttered a quiet thanks, and moved to grab his bottles.

Frank suddenly snapped out of his dreamy haze when he realized the most gorgeous man he'd ever seen was about to leave and probably never be seen again. He opened his mouth, because he had to say _something-_ just to hear a little more words from the guy- and spoke the first thing that come to his mind.

"You look, uh-" He almost spilled his guts out and finished the sentence with _'hot as fuck,'_ but caught himself. "Like the rock and roll type..." He swallowed.

The man paused with one hand on the vodka, and looked at Frank with an unreadable expression. The bassist felt his heart rattle in his ribs, expecting him to just walk out without another word.

"Yeah... You look like the rock and roll type yourself," His voice was a little higher than Frank was expecting, and it made his heart fucking soar.

"Yeah, I-I guess I kinda am," Frank laughed a little too loudly- _which was highly unusual for himself-_ and shifted in his seat with the burst of energy suddenly flowing through every fiber of his being. He played with the rings on his fingers as he stared into the guy's gorgeous blue eyes.

"What kind of music you listen to?"

Frank drew up a blank at his most favorite question in the world, and took a moment to think.

"Uh, T-Rex, Deep Purple, and uh, Kiss."

"Fuck Kiss! They suck." The slight raise in the man's voice made Frank jump slightly. The anxiety exploding in his stomach was strong enough to burn, and he felt his cheeks blush hot as the wide grin ran for the hills. _Fuck, he just ruined everything!_ The current man of his unrealistic dreams just admitted to hating his favorite band, and Frank quickly wondered how much he could turn things around by deciding to just hate them too... But then the guy laughed, clearly seeing the embarrassment on his face, and... _shit_ , it was the _sweetest_ sound Frank had ever heard. It blew the socks off every song he'd ever listened to. "Hey, if you want to hear a _real_ band play and hear some good fucking guitar for once, come down to the Stone Pony at eight tonight and wait for White Horse to come on." The man grinned like he knew something Frank didn't, and for all the younger man knew he most certainly did. The smile was enough to jumpstart his racing brain again.

"That your band?" He sounded like an eager child as he stared wide eyed up at his captivator.

"You'll have to show up and find out for yourself," the sweet husky voice and smirk of the guy made Frank's crotch feel things he probably shouldn't be feeling about a stranger, even if they did have looks that could fucking kill.

"O-okay! I should be off by then," He couldn't stop the huge smile from exposing his teeth as well. _So maybe he didn't scare the guy off after all-_ he had just admitted to wanting to see his scrawny ass again! That was a rare thing in Frank's life, and his heart was reveling in the joy of it. "What's your name?" He asked as the guy quickly as he picked up his other bottle and turned towards the door.

The raven haired man stopped for a moment. He stared out the door at the setting sun painted outside for a few seconds, and Frank wondered if he had said something wrong again.

"I'll tell you when I figure it out," He finally spoke, softly and with a sly grin as he turned to Frank one more time. He held his gaze for one second, then looked back towards the door and made his way out. Those thick heels echoed on the floor until the door shut behind him and left Frank alone yet again in silence.

 _Fuck._ Frank was head over heels and screwed up the ass. He knew he most certainly was not supposed to be off work until after nine- but fuck it. His manager could kiss his ass, right after he figured out how to kiss that sexy motherfucker's. Stone Pony? He'd heard of it before, and made sure to ask the next customer in for directions on how the hell to get there.

***

At seven forty that same night, one hour after the god of a man had flipped Frank's life upside down, he bolted out the door with a quick _'I gotta go, sorry dude!'_ And slammed it shut behind him to the sounds of his screaming boss.

He took off in a jog down the street, made a turn at the first left like he was told by some old guy that eventually came in after his new obsession had left, and kept on walking for five minutes. The sun was just about set over the city of L.A., drowning the world in a deep pink glow that silhouetted the palm trees in a post card style setting. Frank felt himself smiling- for once not because he just landed free booze or hit a line of coke. But just because he might see that guy again. He wondered if he was part of that band, White Horse, and if so what he played. He didnt strike Frank as a drummer, that was for sure. But hey, nothing was impossible, right? Maybe he was their singer. He could certainly pull it off- he had the sweetest voice Frank had ever fucking heard. Or maybe he played bass, and might want to hear Frank play too and they could jam out together. Or guitar- that would _so_ bad ass...

Frank felt goosebumps rise on his skin, and didn't know if it was from the cold wind of the night or the thought of hanging out with that guy. He eventually arrived at the Stone Pony, which turned out to be one of the nicest bars Frank had ever dared walk into. He looked down at his torn, filthy skinny jeans and too small jacket covering the T-Rex shirt that was too worn out to even read. He paused on the front sidewalk to ruffle his hair up a little higher, tuck his shirt in his pants a little more, and pray to the god he didn't believe in that he looked semi-decent.

He stepped through the door and was immediately met with the loud sound of a roaring crowd and band playing on the other side of the room on a huge stage. Frank was grateful that it was a little too dark to clearly make out any details of anyone's clothes or faces. He snaked his way through the tight crowd jumping and cheering along to the drum solo, to find an open seat at the bar across the room. He nervously wiped at his nose as he sat down and looked at the band, really wishing he had a line of coke to calm himself down.

"Hey, can I get a beer?" He asked when the bar tender made his way around to Frank, and held out his last remaining five dollar bill. The old grouch nodded once, took the money, and slid a beer down the table into Frank's waiting hand. He downed half of it in one go as the anxiety in his chest revved up it's engine.

The guy he was restlessly hunting down wasn't on the stage, and Frank turned to the person sitting next to him.

 _"Hey who's on right now?"_ He shouted over the noise. It wasn't very good music, in his opinion. Too much country and not enough kill.

 _"No idea, I'm just waiting for White Horse,"_ The dude shouted back before taking a swig at his drink.

That was all the answer Frank needed. And with that, the current band playing finally ended and as soon as they made their way off the impressive stage, someone on a speaker announced the next band as White Horse. The amount of cheers exploding in the crowd shook Frank to his inner core, and the swarm of drunken people rushed to the stage. He had a nice enough view from his dark corner of the bar, and waited in anticipation. He watched the crew take down the old drum kit and set up a new one, along with adding an extra mic stand. Frank really fucking wished he could get that one day- that would be fucking nice... Having strangers set his shit up for him and whatever awesome band he would create one day, as soon as he tore off from the drags he was currently playing with. Having that big of a crowd know their name, whatever it may be... _God, he wanted it so bad_.

Some guy with curly hair hit the stage when it was ready and made his way to the drums, earning a scream from every woman in the room. He wasn't that good looking in Frank's eyes, but then again Frank wasn't supposed to even like dudes. As he thought that sudden realization over in his mind while some blonde joined in and riled the ladies up some more- he realized that the stranger teasing his heart was a one and only exception.

After two more guys took their places with a guitar and bass, Frank wondered if the man on his mind wasn't part of the band after all. He hadn't exactly confirmed if he was or wasn't- that's why Frank was there and currently getting fired from his job, after all.

But he was luckily proven wrong when the man walked on stage and Frank's world stopped.

And when the crowd didn't react at all to the most gorgeous human Frank Feranna had ever met- he felt fire burn in his fucking chest. Not a single holler from a single woman sounded out, as if he hadn't even walked up there. Frank's heart was pounding a thousand times too fast, and he had to take another drink to avoid whining out like a dog. The guy was still dressed in the same outfit from the liquor store, but appeared so much more powerful and intimidating on that stage, under a spot light, standing in those insane leather heels. He looked so out of place in the band of country style dressed men that Frank had to hold back a manic laugh. White Horse didn't present themselves as any band who's CD Frank would ever pick up at the store, and he couldn't put a guess together as to what they were going to sound like.

All he cared about really was that strange human clad in black, picking up a nice looking strat.

_So he played guitar..._

"Who's ready to rock tonight!?" The lead singer riled up their impressive crowd to earn a wave of whistles and applause. Well, any band who could earn a hyped up cheering crowd before they even began had to be _somewhat_ good, Frank mused. But that wasn't important; Frank wasn't there for music. His eye candy positioned the guitar over his shoulders. The bassist felt his breath hitch. A tick of drum cymbals led right away into a fast beat, but Frank couldn't give a single fuck about the sound of the others.

As soon as that guitar started, the world around Frank dissolved into a haze.

It wasn't like any guitar he'd ever heard before- something so undeniably unique about it... As if the instrument was alive itself and singing it's cold metal heart out. Frank watched the man's hand move up and down the neck so fast he couldn't keep up with it, eyes bouncing between the fingers shredding the strings and the ones picking the tune. Frank wasn't sure if even heard a single word the vocalist was singing- he just wanted more of that sound, that feeling, that vibrating energy kickstarting every fiber of his being. The guy moved to stand next to the other guitarist, who didn't move with nearly as much energy as Frank's mysterious obsession did. The man's long black hair swung as he nodded to the beat, laughing wildly with his bandmate as he ripped into a riff that could slaughter.

The cries of his solo filled the bar and _now_ the crowd cheered for him. Frank waited for him to jump around, kick something down, do something to get those women up front reaching for his feet, but he never did. He just stood next to the others, shredding away at the greatest music Frank and ever fucking heard. The solo was over way too fast, and the bassist was left silently begging for more. The song was next to end shortly after that but before he had time to be too sad over it, they immediately started into another one just as hot.

Song after song, all Frank could process was a single running thought of, _'I want him, I want him so bad, and I want to be just like him!'_

The moon had risen high above Hollywood by the time Frank finished his beer and sat in his chair clapping and screaming with the rest of the audience. He'd decided that White Horse was a good band and all, but would be nothing worth the while if it weren't for the raven haired man's skill. He was the perfect amount of tipsy to be moved to his core by the music, finally relaxing a bit as he watched them play.

 _Yeah... Frank wanted that._ He wanted to be as hot as them, if not hotter. He wanted a band that people would never forget. He wanted a group of people that looked like no others, and to just pick this no-name man right out of White Horse and take him home all for himself. He wanted to learn absolutely _everything_ from this experienced master...

And when the gorgeous motherfucker used his mic stand as a goddamn guitar slide? Frank's heart tapped out for good. He moved as if he knew everything about the world, like he had every ounce of confidence he'd ever earned, and Frank wanted it _all_.

The band eventually finished with a hot finale and made their way off the stage, much to the crowds disappointment. Frank was hoping that their calls for an encore would be rewarded, but no such luck was had as the band blew their kisses to the crowd and headed off. He watched the legendary guitarist walk away and disappear into a wave of lucky fans, before turning to the same man sitting next to him as before.

"Hey, who's the guitarist?" He asked.

"No clue. All I know is the guy changes his name a lot. But this band's been through some shit already, so don't get your hopes up for them lasting." The older man took a swig from his glass.

Frank thought the words over in his mind. His Doctor Dreamy still remained nameless, but if what he was told was correct- he could be looking for another band... He wondered that if he were to ever come face to face with the dark angel again, would it be rude to ask? Frank got the question all the damn the time, and didn't doubt that the other did as well, but how would the dude react? He wished he knew what _'shit'_ implied in regards to what they had apparently been through already. Any time Frank's bands went through some sort of shit- that was it. They were done for. What did White Horse do so good that they had apparently kept it together and still had a passionate following of loyal people? Frank wished he could also ask that. Fuck, he really just wanted to either steal the sexy beast and take him home for his own damn band, or maybe go as far as to join White Horse.

 _Ha... wouldn't that be wild?_ White Horse looked like the exact opposite thing Frank was striving to be. Well, save for his newfound love interest, of course. That guy also looked like he didn't want to hang with them either. But, if Frank joining their band meant getting closer to his mystery man and playing music with him... that might be _pretty_ fucking worth it.

 _"Huh..."_ he wondered out loud with a gaping mouth that let hang just the slightest bit of drool.

 _"Dude, close your fucking legs, weirdo!"_ The bastard next to him scowled hard at Frank, and he snapped away from his day dream to look down at the impressive boner pitching a tent in his tight jeans. Sure enough, he'd slid lower in the barstool in his tipsy state of mind to spread his legs wide, accommodating to the tightening of his pants.

 _"Fuck,"_ He hissed to himself before snapping his thighs together again and spinning around to rest his elbows against the counter. Luckily everyone else in the near vicinity was too busy with getting hammered to notice.

"You fuckin' like the guy or something?" Frank wasn't expecting the low question from the other man.

"Uh," Frank didn't want to answer, but it sure sounded and looked like his little bar buddy was expecting one. "No, I just... wanted to ask if he could teach me some stuff." _Nice save, in his opinion._

"Like what? How to suck dick?" _Shit. Pretty bad save, it turned out._ The guy laughed loudly at his own joke, along with the skinny blonde girlfriend at his other side. She was the next one to speak to poor Frank.

"Honey, you don't want Bob Deal. Trust me. He's got a family already, and just up and left them to go chase guitar," she joined in on the conversation with a sincere smile and quiet giggle.

 _Bob Deal. So that was his name..._ No wonders he was apparently trying to change it. Fuck, Frank sure as hell knew how that felt...

And a family? How old was the guy? He didn't look too much older than Frank, but even if he was- the bassist didn't exactly give a shit enough to care. This was the only time that Frank had ever found a man he'd bend over for, that also _just_ so happened to play fucking rock music better than anyone else on planet Earth.

"Why don't you go talk to him, _hmm?"_ The man teased Frank again, and a hot wave of anger flooded through him. _Who the fuck was this guy, just assuming his hard on was for the man he'd been drooling over all night anyways!?_ "He's right over there, turning down those hot sluts yet again. Maybe he hates pussy and you'll get lucky," The guy cracked up. Frank's face blushed red hot, but no longer from fury because the amount of embarrassment in his system outnumbered everything else.

The sound of the girlfriend telling the guy to shut the hell up was drowned out between the loud bar and Frank's current attention being held in the corner the guy had pointed to. Sure enough, _Bob Deal_ was hanging with half the band and dodging every hint some brunette was shooting his way. _'Holy shit,'_ Frank thought. _'The guy's got a sexy girl trying to hop in those leather pants and he's totally blowing her off!'_ This raised endless questions in Frank's head- all stemming off from, _'what exactly was that family thing he had going on?'_ And, _'is he seriously not into pussy?'_ An ocean of emotional turmoil flooded Frank's insides.

His daydreaming stare was shattered when Bob Deal turned around and saw him. Frank's heart raced like a rabbit as he sat unprepared and dumbfounded at the sight of Deal heading straight for him with a wide grin. The two bozos next to Frank saw him coming too, and made a rather polite decision to just get up and walk away. That didn't bring as much relief to Frank as he was hoping for, however. Maybe he was hoping to pretend they were his friends, because he suddenly felt very insecure and very embarrassed to be all alone in a bar just because some strange dude he didn't even know told him to show up...

"You came!" Bob said over the crowd. Frank blinked up at him when he stopped right in front of the bassist with a genuine grin, holding one of the bottles he'd bought at the store earlier.

"Uh..." _Fuck, he wished he had some coke_. _He always moved too slow without it_. "Hell yeah. Just walked in, when do you go on?" He laughed a little harshly at his shitty joke, but stopped abruptly when Bob didn't catch on and looked rather disappointed. "I-I'm just fucking around, I saw you guys," Frank wiped his nose and fiddled with the empty beer bottle.

"Oh, sweet," Bob sighed with a deep chuckle at the realization the younger man was just yanking his chain, and took a seat next to him. Frank hoped his sweaty skin and nervous foot tapping weren't so noticable in the dim lighting. "Better than Kiss?" He laughed.

"Dude, you were fucking _awesome!"_ He finally exclaimed. " _Way_ better than Kiss. I mean, what the fuck!? You're like the greatest guitar player I've ever seen, where the hell did you learn that shit!?" He leaned in a little too close but Bob didn't seem to mind as he looked at Frank with a flattered gaze. He took a swig before answering.

"Taught myself," He grinned.

"No fucking way," Frank gasped.

"Yup. Started at seven," Bob chuckled as he looked at the wooden counter.

Frank just had to watch him for a moment in time, because fuck, he was so goddamn undeniably gorgeous. The dark shadows of his teased hair and leather clothes were highlighted by the orange glow of the bar. His skin was a hauntingly beautiful pale tone, and Frank wondered if he even lived in California at all. How long had he been living this close to an actual god and not even known it?

This Bob Deal guy was fucking _perfect_.

"You're Bob, right?" He finally asked with a shy grin. It slipped on his lips a little though when the guitarist frowned slightly with a tightly drawn mouth. It looked as if he maybe didn't exactly want Frank to know about his name, and the bassist bit his tongue.

"Not for long. Fuckin' hate that name." He took another drink, never looking away from Frank's eyes. It took a rather unhealthy amount of effort for the younger man not to glance down at those lips kissing the bottle.

"I know how you feel..." Frank mumbled.

"Why, what's your name? Or is it best not to ask?" Bob smirked.

Frank paused for a moment, reminiscing again on why the fuck he hated his name so much.

"Frankie. Frank Feranna Jr.. But don't ask about it, because my dad doesn't fucking exist in any place besides Hell." He had never before admitted such honest feelings to anyone besides his shit-eating mother. Something about Bob made Frank feel unusually safe like her never had before, and he craved more of it.

"Cool. Sounds good. Er- not the name, you know what I mean..." Bob giggled. Frank smiled at the heavenly sound with all the genuine care his body was capable of producing. "So what do you play, kid?" Frank wondered again at the nickname about how old this guy was.

"Uh, bass mostly. I wanna leave my shitty band and start a new one one day," he cleared his dry throat. He wished he could afford another beer as he rolled the empty bottle between his palms.

"Cool. You should call me sometime, I'm always down to jam," Bob grabbed a napkin from the holder and pulled a pen from his jacket pocket. He wrote down a phone number in surprisingly neat writing, and slid it to Frank's hands. The bass player stared down at it like it was a bag of diamonds as the wires in his brain tried to reconnect.

"Really? But, your band now, White Horse; it's so fucking good, don't you like it?" He looked back up to Bob. "I'd _kill_ to be as good as you guys, you're awesome!"

Silence was not the answer he was expecting from the guitarist. He stared at Frank, then down at the bottle of vodka in front of him. His eyes swam in a sea of memories and emotions Frank knew he would probably never understand or figure out. Yet again, he kicked himself for asking all the wrong questions.

"Bands die. You'll learn that." He whispered. It was almost too quiet to hear in the loud bar, but Frank did. He could smell the sadness in his voice, and wanted to do anything in the world to fix it.

 _"Yeah..."_ He breathed back. The anxiety in his chest was finally beginning to dull. "I've lost a few bands already." He looked away from Bob to stare at his own bottle, wishing he could magically make it full again.

"Well... Fuck those guys, right?" The guitar player's sincere voice caught his gaze once more.

"Hell yeah," Frank laughed with him. They both sounded a little bittersweet in the shadows of memories of where they had come from, all the people and places they wouldn't ever have time to talk about- but it was still the sweetest melody of the night.

"Wanna drink to shitty names and shitty bands?" Bob grinned at him. "Or just play with that empty bottle all night?" Frank felt himself blush.

"I uh, don't have any money on me," He cleared his throat and tried to act like it didn't bother him. It never had before, so why the hell was he suddenly feeling so small next to Bob now?

"Hey, I'll get you one on me. I can't exactly afford it either, but you look like you need it."

"Shit man, you don't gotta do that," Frank's heart nearly broke his ribs with how fast it was pounding.

"Don't worry about it," He grinned at the bassist from the edge of drunkenness, and within seconds Frank had a fresh glass of whiskey in his hands.

They drank and talked about everything between writing music and where they wanted to end up in their godforsaken lives. Frank didn't ask about his family, and Bob didn't mention it. Bob didn't ask Frank about his either, and the younger was grateful for that. Turned out they had the same dreams; to one day be on billboards, on the charts, signing record labels and being the best goddamn bands the world would ever be so lucky to have. Frank also tried to steer the topics away from chicks and sex; he didn't think Bob would be into dudes, but he decided that he didn't want to find out either way. He wasn't sure which answer would be worse for his aching heart.

It was around midnight after Bob had bought Frank another drink as he finished his own huge bottle off, and the two were hammered out of their minds.

"Hey, I should go," Bob winced as he tried to stretch back in his seat but only made it halfway in a failed attempt. Frank rose an eyebrow at him, wondering what he could have done that prevented him from even leaning backwards. His blitzed out mind hoped that it wasn't from banging so many girls- that drunken thought hurt him more than it should have. His new favorite guitar player and human being in the whole wide world then got up, and turned towards the door with a stiff motion.

 _"Hey, thanks man!"_ Frank slurred out. He reached an arm out to hold Bob's leather jacket, looking through those dark bangs to get a glimpse of those icy eyes one more time. He didn't want his time with this man to end, but also suddenly really wanted to just go home, jerk off, and cry in bed. "For everything, I had a great time..." He hoped his second boner of the night wasn't being as obvious as it felt. Luckily Bob didnt look down, and instead shot him a sweet smile.

"Hey, you got my number," He laughed that beautiful sound again. Frank was starting to think it could compete with coke on how fucking blissful it made him feel.

And with that, he walked away from Frank and disappeared into the crowd. The bassist couldn't see him leave out the door, and was a little glad that he didn't. His life already felt a strange sort of empty without him.

He waited five more minutes before standing up himself on wobbly legs, and shuffling through the thick mass of people. He managed to slip outside without tripping over his heavy feet, and started down the cold dark street. The roaring from the loud bar giving way to near silence left a dull ring in his ears, but Frank didn't care. The chilled night air wasn't felt on his skin, his ten minute walk home wasn't a concern, his unemployment, dirty clothes, empty fridge- it all meant nothing. His mind had found a new fucking reason to keep shoving through the assholes of the world and find his place at the top of it all. Bob Deal had shed a new light on his entire view of music- and he was going to chase it down and rip it's throat out. He would call Bob maybe next week, as not to look as eager as he actually was, and see if he'd want to write a song or two.

He was almost halfway home when he remembered the phone number that he forgot on the bar.

 _"FUCK!"_ His shout startled an innocent man walking his dog nearby, but Frank didn't give a damn as he turned tail and bolted back to the Stone Pony. He sprinted as fast as his legs would carry him through the sidewalks of L.A., ignoring walk signs and honking cars as he didn't dare stop for even a second. His happy intoxication was left behind in the dust as sobriety took over the steering wheel, flooring the pedal to the metal until finally the neon sign of the bar came into view and he pushed even harder. He flew through the door and ran right into a huge man, but the bastard was too drunk and slow to grab Frank as the younger man shoved his way through the crowd back to his previous seat.

His burning lungs decided that breathing could wait, when he didn't see the napkin where he previously abandoned it. Whispers of _'fuck, fuck, fuck!'_ Repeated under his shorted breath was all that could process in his panicking mind. He scoured every inch of his seat and the table where him and Bob had sat, as if the napkin would just magically appear before his eyes.

 _"Hey, where did that napkin go!?"_ He shouted over the noise to the same bartender as before.

 _"What fuckin' napkin?"_ He walked over to Frank with a glare.

 _"The one with the fucking NUMBER on it asshole!"_ Frank finally lost it and screamed at him.

 _"Fuck you, I have no idea! If it's so fucking important then why the hell did you leave it behind!?"_ The old fuck had a nice set of pipes on him, Frank thought, as he screamed just as loud at the bassist. The deep tone of a grown man knocking Frank into his place suddenly made him freeze up. It was a rare thing for the younger to experience, and the hard look the man was shooting him made Frank think about the father he never had. That pissed him off. The fact that he lost Bob's number pissed him off. The guy next to him staring like a bitch pissed him off. Everything in Frank's world had turned from hope and love to fury and regret, and he clenched his jaw painfully tight.

It suddenly felt like every set of eyes in the entire bar was on him, and his face burned red with panic. He stared at the blank bar table, knowing Bob's number was gone for good.

Maybe he would have asked around if anyone nearby had seen someone take it- but fuck, people were for sure looking at him now. Frank knew what they were thinking; he was too young to be here, too young to do anything right anyways, too young to be responsible and sure as hell too young to go and fall in love.

Whatever demon in charge of his panic button decided to do their job, and flipped the switch to make the bass player back away from the bar ever so slowly. He turned on a dime and took off through the onlookers towards the door. He refused to fucking cry in front of anyone, and the dark city around him when he hit freedom started to blur behind a wall of cold tears.

He had lost Bob Deal's phone number. He no longer worked at the store the guitarist picked his booze up at. He had no idea where the guy lived, where he was from, and from the only conversation he'd had about White Horse; no one knew a thing about him. Bob Deal was about to change his name and leave his band, and Frank would never see his gorgeous face again. _Fuck, when could he do_ anything _right!?_

Frank didn't remember walking all the way back home through desolate winding streets. His mind was swarming with thoughts of failure too loud to process the world around him until he stopped at his front door, realizing he'd sulked his entire way back to the shitty apartment. He didn't hear the key turning in the lock, or the click of the door shutting behind him. Didn't turn on the lights as he flopped down on the stained up couch in his dirty clothes.

Frank had yet again lost the most important thing in his unfair life. He had let something so perfect slip away through his stupid fingers... Why did the universe hate him so much? Why was he cursed every day with a fucking family that left him all alone, love that could never last, and a brain that couldn't focus properly on anything that mattered? Why did he always end up dropping any ounce of joy down the drain, as if he was too scared to hold it!?

The sun was rising beyond the mountains by the time Frank had drifted off in a dreamless sleep. The last running thought through his exhausted mind was that yeah- he lost Bob Deal. _But fuck it_. What was the goal there anyways? That the guitarist would just come over, plug in, they would make a hot new band, the two could fall in love and Frank's life would finally be perfect? Fuck that. Fuck that careless joy. Frank had never had a family and sure as hell never wanted one. He didn't come from love and was destined to never end up there. All he needed was his goddamned bass and an amp- he would figure the rest out along the way like he always did.

The world may be out to get him, but Frank Feranna swore he would punch it in the fucking teeth before it got another hit in. He tried to ignore the aching in his wounded heart that had felt betrayal just one too many times, as he swam away from the shore of consciousness. 


	2. Mick Mars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something lost is finally found, and from it comes the best kind of trouble...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little more sappy than I planned for, but they deserve it! Hope you enjoy <3 The next chapter won't be so innocent...

**January, 1981**

Four years went by but it felt like only one.

Frank had decided just a year after _He Who Shall Not Be Named_ strutted out of his pathetic life, that he wanted to die. He was sick of being Frank Feranna Jr.: the man who's father didn't want, mother didn't love, and friends didn't want to see. So he did the manly thing to do, and killed himself.

The day he burned Frankie's name away with a dying lighter was the second best day of his brand new life. Nikki Sixx walked away from it's ashes, ready to grab life by the goddamn balls.

And grab he fucking did.

London was a hit, and things were good for a while. He finally got a real taste of excited fans jumping at the stage to hear his band play, and making some sort of money doing what he loved. Nikki did his best to not think about Bob Deal- the one that had just barely been there but still got away. He dreamed, though. He had dreams of rocking out to a crowd so big he couldn't see the end, with that raven haired man at his side. Fire on either end of the stage, and the greatest music in the world pounding in their ears. The energy of the fame, heat, power, and passion would sometimes wake him up right when it was getting good as he was running over to the lost man of his dreams. It wasn't until the past year that they had finally stopped tormenting his sleep. Nikki wasn't sure if he missed them or not.

He never remembered the songs when he woke up, and was quite sad about it.

But he was Nikki Sixx now, and Nikki didn't love anything besides his bass.

London died not long after Frankie, when Nikki couldn't take the unstable control any longer. His endless arguing with the guitar player had finally done it for everyone. He was constantly giving him shit for not being Nikki's standard of good, and when they kept asking what that standard was? He couldn't answer.

He wanted to say, ' _I want you to sound like that motherfucker from White Horse!'_ But sure enough, White Horse had died shortly after Frankie as well. It was as if he was the only one in the world who remembered that guitarist, _Bob Deal_ , defining a new style of music.

There were nights when he did too much coke, and wondered if White Horse had ever even existed. There was a full twenty four hours one time that he had convinced himself they didn't, and Bob Deal was just a harsh dream his lonely mind conjured up.

He knew that wasn't true, however, when he saw one of their vinyls in a record store. He couldn't buy it. Couldn't even look at it.

So Nikki Sixx spent those four years with London until he was the one to kill them from the inside out, and they called it quits forever.

When Nikki met Tommy Lee, things finally turned around. He was cute- the opposite of Bob Deal in every way. He was so hyper, enthusiastic, always willing to go along with Nikki's leadership. And he drummed away like a demon from Hell. He sped up the process of forgetting about Bob Deal even faster, and unknowingly helped Nikki learn how to ignore those sinful feelings. Nikki wanted to tell Tommy about it sometimes, but could never find the courage to admit it all out loud. O'Dean was next to join their group. He was a self absorbed nasty motherfucker, but Nikki didn't have another singer to replace him.

Their guitarist, though? Tommy had _sworn_ by him. Of course, that should have been red flag number one.

 _"So fucking slow, I fucking hate him-"_ Nikki hissed to Tommy about it one night when they sat at a bar together, getting hammered on beer they couldn't afford.

"You say that a lot," Tommy laughed his childish giggle, and it never failed to make Nikki smile. The drummer had once felt bad about bringing bad talent into the unnamed band, but had grown used to Nikki's complaints. "He's just a rythm guy, I guess."

"Well, it's true." Nikki couldn't help but chuckle along with his best friend. "He sucks. We need someone new, someone uh..." He remembered that night at the Stone Pony. His calloused heart had learned long ago to stop skipping beats when he did so. "Fast. Daring. Louder than hell- someone who will just fuck it up and go fucking wild, but not in the cocky way," Nikki rambled on with wide, unfocused eyes gazing at nothing. Tommy raised unconcerned brow at him, and took the last swig of his beer.

"Here, just a sec," He sighed and took off outside. He ran back in with a newspaper just a few seconds later. That was another one of the many things Nikki liked about his drummer- he moved to fast to give Nikki any time to worry about him not coming back. "There's always dudes putting ads in here, let's check it!" He said and quickly opened up to the last page. A thousand words of dull font chopped their way through the bandmates' eyes, with no such luck of finding any musicians outside of piano.

Until the third to last one.

"Look-" Tommy pointed with a drumstick that Nikki didn't even see him whip out. But Tommy was of course scheduled to do so at least every five minutes, so he smashed the tip of it right on the line that had their attention, before twirling it in his fingers. "He looks pretty cool!"

Nikki read the sentence.

 _"Loud, rude, aggressive guitar player seeking work. No bullshit. Call Mick,"_ he read out loud through a skeptical haze.

Tommy was right. He did sound cool.

"Call him!" Tommy excitedly begged. "Sounds like he's the total opposite of Greg, which is what you wanted!" He stole Nikki's drink when the bassist was distracted staring down at the phone number.

Nikki eventually did make his way down to the payphone and call him the next day around noon, when Tommy was at the store buying cheap food and shoplifting what he could fit in his tight pockets. The call was answered after only three rings.

 _"Hello?"_ A man's voice picked up and sounded familiar, but Nikki didn't dare think about it.

"Uh, is this Mick?" He cleared his throat, shifting under the hot California sun.

 _"Yeah, who's talkin'?"_ Fuck, he really did sound familiar. Angry, but... there was something _there_.

"My name is Nikki Sixx and I saw your ad in The Recycler. You play guitar, right? Looking for a job?"

 _"Yeah!"_ When the guy's voice lightened with realization, Nikki's heart disobeyed the rules and fluttered for a second. But the static of the shitty phone was probably just playing games. There was no way in Hell...

"Wanna come down to my place for an audition?" He forced out, suddenly distracted and unsure.

 _"Hell yeah, gimmie the time and place."_ There was shuffling on the other end. Nikki gave him the address and decided on six o'clock that afternoon.

Tommy had eventually returned, carrying two bags of loot and grinning at the sight of the living room set up for practice.

"Sweet, we playing tonight?" He beamed.

"Yeah, that Mick guy is coming over. Gonna see what he's all about," Nikki mummbled from the couch as he fiddled around with his notebook, trying to write a new song. Tommy was saying something about how excited he was to get new blood in the band, but Nikki wasn't listening. He was holding a finger between the pages at the beginning of his prized journal that he knew held a very important song he'd written years ago. It had been the last song Frank Feranna Jr. had wrote, not long after Bob Deal was lost to the hills of L.A.. He eventually decided after a few sulking minutes that he didn't want to reread it after all, and tossed the book aside.

Just about six hours later found Nikki, Tommy, O'Dean, and Greg running through a version of Take Me to the Top, and utterly failing in Nikki's strict opinion.

"Just fucking stop!" He finally shouted over Tommy's drums when Greg hit a wrong cord for the final time. "What the _fuck_ Greg!? I've showed you this shit so many times, why can't you get it!?" He snapped like a rabid wolf.

"Chill, dude," Greg held his hands up innocently. It made Nikki boil. "You want it too fast, I can't do it yet!"

"Yeah? Well fucking _learn to_ , or I swear to _god_ I'm about to kick your ass out." Nikki's snarl was enough to shut the other three up. Tommy looked up at the bassist with sad eyes, hoping that this Mick guy would actually show up and be better than Greg. If only for the sake of his friend's mind.

On cue, a knock hit the door at the end of the drummer's thought.

Nikki slung his bass behind him and walked over, ignoring the confused looks shot his way from the other two idiots. Tommy just grinned like a cat.

When he opened the door, his heart stopped beating. Instead of greeting the person waiting with a normal, _'what's up?'_ Or, _'hey, come on in,'_ he just stood dumbfounded. Absolutely, entirely, one hundred percent out of his fucking mind and orbiting the planet a million miles away in the shock filling his brain. His hand tightened on the wood frame and Nikki Sixx nearly just slammed it back shut.

"Uh... Hey," Bob Deal stood on his front step with a guitar slung around his shoulder. He looked just like Nikki fucking remembered. The heels were gone and replaced with flat boots, he noticed with a quick glance to his feet and back up to his head. His eyes seemed a little more aged, along with the skin of his face as Nikki stared on in utter horror at him. But his clothes still didn't dare drift from the realm of black on black, and his hair was still that gorgeously long, obsidian, shaggy mess. Those hair-sprayed bangs still hugged his captivating eyes just like they did all those years ago.

"Sixxter, who is it?" Tommy's nervous call across the room behind him went unheard by one of the two men currently standing at the front door. Neither answered the drummer as they each shared a knowing look. Bob's was filled with remembrance and confusion, while Nikki's was filled with remembrance as well but topped off with hot panic.

"You're... you're that guy, from before-" Nikki croaked.

The tense smile on Bob's face faltered uncomfortably.

"Uh, yeah... I remember you. You saw me play, right?" He tried a nervous laugh as he awkwardly shifted in front of the bassist.

 _"Yeah,"_ Nikki breathed a little too euphorically. His unblinking gaze held on tight to Bob's eyes. They were still that gorgeous ocean blue... Nikki had dreamed so many times of them, and here they were one more time right in front of him. He wondered if it was at all real, or if the world was playing a sick joke on him. Nikki had probably just passed out five minutes ago, and this was all a fever dream sent to torment his brain just when he had started getting over it. He desperately wished it was.

Nikki immediately noticed right after his moment of turmoil that Bob was shorter than him. He suddenly realized that back in '77, he hadn't ever actually stood next to the guy... It made something go pitter patter in his failing heart, and the strings deep in the love chamber threatened to snap.

"C-Come in, I guess," Nikki jumped to the side and motioned for Mick to enter when his mind started working halfway right again. The head of his bass hit the back of his skull with his quick movements, but he barely felt the pain or the pegs get caught in his hair and pull on it. Tommy finally got a view of the guitarist waiting outside, and cracked a wide grin at how the motherfucker looked.

"Well, I actually got an amp. Just need help getting it up the stairs, if one of you guys can come down?" Bob mumbled shyly without stepping inside. Nikki didn't remember him sounding or looking so unsure before, and wondered what else had changed since then...

"I got it!" Tommy jumped up and raced over to Bob, snapping Nikki out of his stupor. He watched as Bob shot him a polite smile, and the two made their way down the stairs. Tommy was doing what he did best and taking up a storm about something along the lines of his previous band, while Bob stayed quiet. Nikki headed out onto the walkway to watch them go over to the shitty car parked out front and open the trunk to a huge Marshall amp. He watched how Bob moved, and noticed that he was much more stiff and careful than his drummer. _Interesting_. He tried to remember if it was like that back then, but the blood rushing through his head was too loud to properly think it through.

 _Bob Deal had just shown up at his front fucking door._ He was currently downstairs pulling an amp out of a car with his best friend. He wanted to play music with Nikki Sixx. He was that shining light of hope from the newpaper that labled himself as loud, rude and aggressive...

It was then Nikki remembered the ad. _Call Mick..._

He blinked his daydream away when Tommy and Bob made their way up the stairs, amp in tow between them, and Nikki held the door open for them to drag it inside. Greg and O'Dean looked at Bob like he was a street rat that had just waltzed in on their already shitty parade. Their harsh glares did little to sooth the unstable emotions skyrocketing in the bassist. As soon as the amp was positioned and plugged in, Nikki hurried and asked his building question.

"Did you change your name?" He stared at Bob. The guitarist looked away from his instrument and met his intense gaze with that same lax expression Nikki remembered much too well.

"Yeah. _Mick Mars._ Don't call me anything else," He grinned a knowing smile that had seen many more years than the younger man.

Nikki Sixx had to take another pause, because he thought he would never see that smile ever again.

"Mick Mars..." He repeated. His once lost love had somehow gotten even _more_ perfect. His lips couldn't hold back from their wide crooked grin exposing his teeth. "I like that," He giggled. The bees swarming in his chest finally started to simmer down.

"Thanks. And what about you?"

"Nikki Sixx."

"Huh... interesting," Mick returned the look as he finally went back to tuning his guitar up. Nikki positioned his bass as well, and O'Dean and Greg decided to just roll with it.

He taught Mick Mars _Live Wire_ in ten minutes.

And he sounded even better than Nikki remembered. _Fuck_ , he thought he'd never hear that skill again... Nikki told O'Dean and Greg to just shut up and wait while Mick learned his part, and didn't even process the harsh middle fingers from the two assholes. Mick shredded his song just like he had always fantasized about, and he couldn't stop his excited exclaims and laughs as the guitarist nailed every chord. Tommy started to have a real blast too, and cheered Mick on as the older man played an entire chorus part _flawlessly_. Nikki had never heard his own music so fucking wild and alive ever before, and he was beyond ecstatic.

They eventually started their first full run through of the song, but only made it ten seconds in until Greg started shouting something over the sound. Mick lost that gorgeous snarl on his lips as his fingers shredding away stilled with a low whine of an abandoned strum.

 _"What the fuck!?"_ Nikki felt that hot rage fill him up again as he shot daggers at Greg, who was looking back at Mick.

"You're going way too fast dude, I can't even hear myself!" The bitch whined like a pig, in Nikki's opinion. He'd never heard anyone actually insult Mick's music before, and was about to put a fucking end to it.

"Greg. Shut the _fuck up_ before I _kill_ _you_ ," he growled. Greg glared at him as if he hadn't done anything wrong in the first place. O'Dean made the wise choice to keep his trap shut. Greg just scoffed after a short stare down with Nikki over Mick's head, and went back to fucking around with his shitty guitar.

Mick turned to Nikki, and the bassist immediately met his knowing eyes.

"Your hippie ain't gonna fucking make it," he whispered. Nikki paused to soak in both the familiar sound he'd missed so much, and the actual words.

"So tell him yourself," He smirked. This would be the new greatest moment of Nikki's entire career.

Mick showed promising bad-assery when he turned to Greg and did as he was told.

"Hey. You ain't gonna fuckin' make it. So, just take that piece of shit guitar of yours and go home." His sweet voice turned to gravel as he stared up at Greg through those thick bangs.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Greg was unrightfully offended. "I was here _first_ , motherfucker!"

 _"Shut the fuck up and get out, Greg!"_ Nikki snapped. No one was supposed to talk to Mick Mars that way.

"You're seriously gonna listen to this old dude over me!?" He fought back. Mick stayed still, calm, and collected, while Nikki had to bite his tongue. "Tommy, come on, tell them-" Tommy looked away at the floor like a guilty puppy. "Seriously!?" Greg whined. _"Fuck you guys!"_ He yanked the plug from his guitar and stormed out of the apartment with half assed insults whispered under his breath. They could still hear him bitching through the door and all the way down the stairs.

Nikki had to laugh. He stared down at Mick with a look he knew gave away his obsessive approval, but was starting not to care anymore. Mick looked up at him a little clueless, getting ready to play some more as Nikki watched him intently for a few more seconds. The powerful look of his new guitarist did sinful things to the deepest parts of Nikki's guts... Tommy suddenly started drumming again after the two shared an odd look between those blue and green eyes, and Mick jumped right in.

Yeah _. Mick Mars._ Nikki finally fucking had him. Maybe dreams did come true in Hollywood.

***

O'Dean unsurprisingly didn't last the next two days after Mick joined in. He was pushed out with brutal honesty just like Greg had been, and Nikki was high with the joy it brought him. It just made Mick sound even louder. His guitar wasn't drowned out anymore by that fucker's squealing.

Nikki would run practices twice as long as before, making his two bandmates play songs over and over with no one to even sing the lyrics. And he'd picked up a tricky new skill- playing bass without looking at it. He'd learned that one when he just couldn't stop staring at Mick at each practice. Nikki just watched him through the curtain of his long hair as the older man focused so adorably on his instrument, fingers working at light speed without a single error. The guitarist looked and dressed like Tommy and Nikki every time he came over for rehearsal, but presented himself so much more innocently... He had wrapped a chain around Nikki's heart and was yanking on it hard. Nikki finally accepted that he was as tied up, screwed, and stuck on love as he was back when he'd first met him.

Writing songs with Mick Mars was a new favorite pass time as well. Coke really had it's work cut out for itself, because the high he got when Mick would like his lyrics or give him killer ideas was better than any line of blow. The guitarist would sit on his bed or at the table with Nikki, and the bassist had to fight to not just stare at those tight leather pants hugging his hips. He started to memorize how perfectly thick Mick's waist was, and how he would only wear heels every other visit. He only ever had three shirts, the same single leather jacket, one pair of pants, and two pairs of shoes. Nikki really wanted to ask where he lived, but never managed to work up the courage.

He still laid up in bed every night, wondering if all of it was real. His first real love that had once been lost to the hills had walked right back into his life and knocked on his front door. Nikki Sixx didn't used to believe in destiny, but he was starting to rethink that.

The first time he touched himself to thoughts of Mick was just two weeks after he'd first joined the incomplete band. The guitarist had spent a few hours at the apartment that day writing with Nikki on their next song while Tommy was at work. They'd stayed in Nikki's bedroom and while Mick was a man of very few words, what soft spoken things he did say kept poking a new hole in the bassist's heart each time. Every time he looked up and met Nikki's gaze with those baby blue eyes, his hair stood on end. After Mick had departed for the night and gave Nikki half a hug on his way out, the bass player went to bed at the ripe hour of two A.M. when he was sure Tommy was fast asleep.

He got naked, slid under the covers, and waited for sleep to take over. But it never did. He stayed wide awake staring out the window running the day through his head a million times, wondering what would have happened if he had kissed Mick. He knew the results wouldn't be good, but his poor yearning mind couldn't resist fathoming a reality in which Mick kissed him back. It was with this thought, and sinful images of the guitarist spread out naked and panting beneath him, that his hand found his cock. He hoped Tommy didn't wake up when he choked out a moan he desperately tried to hide as he came to the thought of bending Mick over his amp.

Vince also joined them just two weeks after O'Dean left, around the same time Nikki had finally lost control of his massive crush. Vince had the voice of an angel that had been kicked out of Heaven for raising Hell one too many times. Nikki loved it. Mick loved it more. Tommy loved it the most. It was exactly what Nikki wanted.

Motley Crue was formed the same night of his audition, scribbled on a piece of Nikki's notebook paper. Mick Mars was a fucking genius for coming up with that one. The bass player's heart ached for him even more.

Months passed by of Motley Crue worming their way into the Whiskey A-Go-Go, playing sold out show after sold out show. _Too Fast For Love_ was put together on cassette tapes and sold out of their trunk to eager fans. Booze, chicks, coke, and everything in-between came easy as their band took over every billboard in L.A.

The four of them would spend nights after shows with two hundred people packed into their tiny apartment that everyone had once made fun of. Tommy, Vince, and Nikki started a trend of seeing who could bang more girls in one night between powdered white lines snorted off a drum cymbal. Mick chose to ride the sidelines rather than a groupies hips, and sulked around the bedroom by himself as the other three broke every law possible.

It had all officially gone on for a whole year. And at at the anniversary party of Motley Crue's formation, Nikki had decided his crush on their guitarist had finally hit rock bottom. When the parties first started, he could drown his mind in drugs and soon be back to a normal, horny young man chasing pussy and catching it with no effort needed. Every now and then he'd slip and land on Tommy's lips instead, if the drummer was just far gone enough on a high. He just wanted to see how it felt. Maybe his brain would realize his drummer was a lot easier to get, and a lot more realistic choice as a love interest. And Tommy would kiss him back. It felt okay, but it wasn't ever what Nikki was expecting so he eventually quit trying it. It had sort of worked for a long time- until recently.

Nikki was still fighting heated dreams of his guitarist getting naked beneath him, or just kissing those lips, or finally telling him those goddamned words of _'I love you,'_ when he found himself next to Mick at a bar party one night. Mick had decided to come alive out of his shell and join the fun, so Nikki couldn't help but latch right onto him. He suddenly didn't want those fucking chicks trying to sit in Mick's lap, or offer him a drink, or even _flirt_ with him. It made a fire burn in Nikki's guts that he didn't know how to douse out until he had successfully cockblocked his guitarist from eager girls. He made a rash decision that night to forcefully shove some blonde right off Mick's lap and onto the floor, earning too many stares and laughs from the people around them. Nikki's face burned red hot, and he stared at Mick with a look just short of horror. But Mick didn't do a thing- he just looked up at Nikki with that interested, unreadable gaze, and took a slow swig of his vodka. Nikki abandoned the party immediately after, but he just did it again at the next one.

It became an unhealthy trend. Half the time Mick was uninterested in the girls anyways and didn't give a shit- but every now and then a flash of irritation flooded his eyes. He looked at Nikki with a little too much worry when the younger man did something exceptionally stupid, like bite the people sitting next to Mick, or threaten to piss on them. Nikki would get high out of his mind and not come-to until he realize he'd been sitting in Mick's lap where he'd just shoved a poor girl from, straddling his hips. He would sober up instantly in an embarrassed second, but pretend to still be drunk as he would slide off Mick's thighs and run into the crowd. It had happened twelve times already. And each time, Nikki couldn't learn a lesson. He eventually just gave up and blamed it on Mick not kicking his ass for doing so.

It was two days past New Year's now, and Nikki couldn't keep riding on his emotional roller coaster.

So when Mick knocked on his bedroom door one night when he'd asked to sleep over at the apartment for an unknown reason, Nikki answered looking like a kicked dog.

"We should talk," Mick said. He stood just inches from Nikki's tormented face, leaning against the door frame dressed only in Vince's sweatpants and a stolen t-shirt.

"Uh, okay," Nikki whispered, and stepped aside. Tommy had gone out for the night with Vince, leaving just Mick and Nikki all alone in their trashed home.

"You okay?" Mick asked him with too much care and love, and it made Nikki tremble.

"Yeah, why?"

"You've been acting kinda weird at parties. And rehearsals. And gigs... But not just like, your usual weird... Is something bothering you?" He sat on Nikki's bed as the bassist paced back and fourth in front of the window.

"No," He lied.

"Dude. Nikki, I know you. Don't waste my time," Mick pleaded. Worry teased the edges of his soft voice, and Nikki thought about how a rat like him didn't deserve that much care from someone so wonderful.

 _"'M not,"_ Nikki gnawed on his thumb nail. "It's just the drugs, dude."

Mick kept staring up at him from his spot on the mattress, doused in the yellow glow of Nikki's bedside lamp. The bass player couldn't look at him; it hurt to much to see what he couldn't have. The guitarist looked around the room and tried to think of how to continue, when Nikki did it for him.

"I just really fuckin' like someone. And I know it's not really cool to fall in love, but..." He stopped his pacing and stared through the window blinds. _"Can't fucking help it."_ It felt like one small weight of many had been lifted from his skinny shoulders. It had been over four years of emotional denying and burying since Nikki tried to come to terms with his feelings again. And there he was: letting them go in front of the root of it all.

"Oh yeah?" Mick raised a brow at him as Nikki met his eyes. The room was spinning but Nikki couldn't feel the dizziness.

 _"Yeah."_ He finally stalked over to sit on the bed next to Mick. Mick stared at him, Nikki stared at the floor.

"Can I ask who?" Mick whispered. Nikki opened his mouth to say no, but that wasn't a very nice answer.

"Probably shouldn't." He painfully smirked. His heart was crying, and Nikki couldn't find the tissues to dry up it's tears.

Mick obeyed him and sat in silence for the next minute.

"How's come you get mad when a chick tries to get with me?" Mick asked. Nikki hadn't been expecting the pained question, and he paused with wide eyes before thinking up another lie.

"I don't."

"Nikki..." Mick tried to growl because they both knew he was lying, but his softhearted voice just made it sound so sweetly hurt.

"Look, I just get protective over my bands, alright..."

"We both know that's a lie. You laugh your ass off when Tommy takes three girls to bed in one night. You cheer him on, actually. And don't get me started on Vince and the shit you talk him into doing..." Mick sounded really hurt now, and Nikki panicked again.

"I just..." He couldn't fucking finish. There was no way he was having this conversation- _but he knew he needed it._ He looked up at Mick with teary eyes that startled the guitarist. _"_ Something about _you_ I guess?" He spoke slowly. "I think you're... different..." Mick visibly bit the inside of his lip at the answer, and Nikki really didn't like that look in his eyes...

"Why? You don't want rumors going around town about the old guy in Motley Crue trying to get with groupies?" Mick said deeply with defensive anger masking the sorrow in his chest. It was obvious he took Nikki's words as an insult. The bassist felt his heart break under such a betrayed, untrusting gaze from Mick. He then realized in that moment that Mick may act pretty damn good at pretending things didn't get to him, but seeing it up close... Nikki knew Mick was hurting just as much as he was. And that was unacceptable. Nikki had worked so fucking hard for a whole year to gain the trust of this man- hell, even before he was Nikki Sixx, that kid named Frank did everything in his power to win over the god sitting before him.

"No! No, Mick, _fuck_. That's not it, I _swear_." He wiped a hand over his dry mouth and then his wet eyes. "Mick, that's not it..." He repeated again. "I just... _can't figure it out,"_ Nikki defensively let out a panicked giggle through a thick throat. "The truth is... Yeah, I hate bitches using you out of everyone else, because... I worry for you? I don't want you getting hurt.. Y-You're, my favorite, I guess?" _Fuck, that sounded worse._ He sighed loudly in frustration.

Mick starred at him. Nikki wished that for just once, he could tell what the older man was feeling. Neither of them moved for a few seconds.

Mick then decided he didn't know how to ask for an explanation on that, and looked out the dark window. He ran a hand nervously up and down his thigh. Nikki just wanted to cradle it in his own hands, and hold it close forever. The older man was obviously preparing to extend the walls around his heart even more, and maybe just say fuck it all and walk right out. He knew Mick deserved the truth- but Motley Crue was doing so damn _good_ , he didn't want to spill the gasoline in his guts and blow it all to pieces. But he also knew he was being an asshole to Mick with no control to stop it, and there was only one way to bring the splinter to a head and rip it the fuck out.

 _"Mick wait,"_ He whispered. Nothing else was planned in his brain, so he began on rambling. "I'm sorry I'm so weird with you, I don't meant it in a rude way. I just really care about you, and don't know a whole lot about where you're from. So I guess I just worry I'm gonna lose you again before I can let you know-" _Shit, he said too fucking much_. His abrupt stop made Mick look over to him. When Nikki didn't continue and instead stared wide eyed at the older man, he decided to ask.

"Let me know what?' Nikki still didn't move. Mick wasn't even sure he was breathing. "What, Nikki?"

 _"I love you."_ Nikki whispered almost too quiet to hear in the silent room.

Mick stared at him. Saw Nikki swallow and bite his tongue behind his closed lips. He knew Nikki Sixx well enough by now to know that the bassist never really loved anyone.

 _"Really?"_ He sounded too hopeful. He had only thought about dating Nikki one time before, not too long ago. But his heart had been hurt plenty enough in the past, and didn't dare let it be more than a one time day dream.

 _"Yeah,"_ Nikki's voice cracked. Tears could been seen filling his vibrant eyes.

"Well, _shit_ ," Mick breathed. "Don't cry about it, it's okay." He put a hand on Nikki's shoulder. The bassist quivered beneath it and couldn't stop himself from letting lose a few tears.

 _"Please don't be mad!"_ He choked out on a painful sob. He was crying now, and Mick had never seen Nikki Sixx cry. Not at anything. Not when he woke up on the streets in a drunken haze, not when Tommy punched him in the face, not when people would spit at his feet, not when someone took a jab at his absent mother and called him unlovable. But he was crying now- and it was over Mick Mars.

So Mick did what he always did when his kids would cry, and wrapped him in a tight hug. Nikki returned the embrace before Mick could even finish it like a wild animal finally released from a cage, burying his face in Mick's dark hair as he shook with silent sobs and held the guitarist painfully close. Four long years of denial, lying, hiding, and pretending had finally broken the weakend damn holding it all back for so long. Nikki sniffed once, full of snot, and pressed his nose against Mick's shoulder. Never before in his short, unfair life had Nikki dropped his heart at someone's feet, to actually have them pick it back up. He had grown so used to having it stepped on like the roaches he lived with, until he finally stopped trusting himself. But Mick did it- he picked Nikki up, and took him away from all the shit in the world.

 _"'M sorry old man,"_ He whimpered.

"Don't worry about it," Mick mumbled into the messy mane of hair pressed against his face. He ignored the stinging in his spine as Nikki held him tight, and focused on rubbing soothing circles up and down the younger man's back. "I'm not mad, Nikki."

"You should be. You don't even like guys, and I keep being a fucking dumbass and ruining all your shots and making your life hell," Nikki said. It felt like he was calming down, but only replacing his sadness with anger which worried Mick.

 _"It's okay,"_ He repeated. Nikki groaned deeply to himself and as he struggled to grab the swaying rope of control again. "I said I ain't mad. I could never be mad at you, not _really_..." Mick made a brave decision to turn and press a kiss on Nikki's head.

The bassist finally pulled back and stared into Mick's beautiful blue eyes. He had dreamed endlessly about those eyes... spent countless nights woken by dreams of having them all to himself, and staring back at him will nothing but love. Nikki and Mick shared a knowing look in a minute of silence just inches away from each other. He had also dreamed of that very moment, when he could finally tell Mick how much he loved him- but they always ended so much better than his reality. Nikki's tears dried fast until all that was left was his blood shot eyes.

"You good?" Mick asked soflty as his hand moved to brush the bangs from Nikki's face. The bassist just nodded, eyes closing at the touch. He ducked his head down as Mick did it again, this time with his hand lingering a little longer before running through the thick mess of hair over his ear. Nikki took a heavy sigh in, and spoke quietly without looking at his guitarist.

"You don't gotta put up with me. I know I annoy you. I annoy everyone. I'm just fucked up, I'll get over it..."

"Shut up," Mick wanted to laugh but held back for the sake of his tormented friend. "When did this start exactly by the way?"

"When I met you."

"Which time?" Nikki paused before he answered Mick.

"The first time."

"Like... _all_ the way back then?"

" _Yeah_..." Nikki finally braved a glance up at Mick's eyes. The guitarist simply sat staring down at him intently, expression as unreadable as ever. _Fuck, he just wanted this night to be over with already.._. "Pretty pathetic, huh?" Nikki said. His rough smirk was nothing of humor- only the self hatred that Mick saw every so often when the darkness of their lives would begin to haunt his bandmate most of all.

Mick didn't like that look. He never had. Nikki only looked like that when he was believing he was worthless, and while Mick had never been brave enough to try and heal him from it before, he decided to start now.

 _"Just tell me everything, Nikki,"_ Mick whispered. He pet Nikki's hair again because the bassist seemed to enjoy it more than he let on, and sure enough it earned a relaxed sigh as he nuzzled against Mick's gentle hand. Nikki took a much needed deep breath before beginning.

"You remember when we met four years ago at that liquor store where I was working?"

Mick had to admit his recollection of the day was pretty fuzzy, but simply told Nikki that yes, of course he did.

"Okay, well," Nikki began again as he wiped at an eye. His makeup had started to run down his cheeks when he cried, and was beginning to dry now. Mick really wanted to wipe it away along with all the dirt in his mind, but let Nikki roam free for a moment as he tried to find his way back. "Like, the minute you walked in that day, all dressed up in your fucking heels and shit- I fucking think I fell in _love_. You made my heart go _ape shit,_ Mick. I didn't even know your name and I already wanted to spend so much more time with you, whether you were a musician or not. Just, your _voice_ ; it was so _sweet_. Your _hair_ was even sexy for God's sake. I remember I kept looking at your legs and ass in those leather pants, and wanting to just run my fuckin' hands all over them. You had a crazy aura around you that just screamed so much confidence and mystery, I wanted to follow you around until I found it myself too... And fuck, Mick-" Nikki had to pause for a breath. "When I _did_ hear you play?" He waited a few seconds, staring at Mick like he held all the answers to every problem in his life. It made Mick's stomach squirm. "Dude... you're the real reason I started this band. I wanted to call you back then, I did. I _swear_. I was so fucking excited, I was going to ask you to write a few songs just to spend time with you. But I was drunk out of my mind and I fucking lost your number! I still haven't fucking forgiven myself. God, if Tommy hadn't picked up the paper that day... I don't think this band would have ever lasted. You were all I wanted, for everything. And I finally have you. So I can't keep denying it."

Mick was at a loss for words as Nikki finished and kept staring at him. How drunk had he been all year, that he had missed so much longing love in his bass player's eyes? Not one person in Mick's life had ever loved him as anything other than a guitar player. Here he had given up all hope of finding true love- someone that wouldn't use him, beat him down, or break his heart. Here he had been living for so many years believing he was too old to ever find the one meant for him.

And here that one was- sitting less than foot away. Mick hadn't realized his feral heart had been frozen with hopeless untrust for so long, until Nikki got a pick and chopped the ice right off.

 _"You mean all that?"_ It was Mick's turn to get teary eyed.

 _"Fuck yes!"_ Nikki breathed, and it was the first time in a long time that it wasn't filled to the brim with held back emotions.

Mick leaned forward and kissed him. He tried to make it as deep and sweet as possible because he fucking loved Nikki and wanted to prove it- but Nikki had been waiting long enough. He gripped Mick's hair with two fists and shoved his lips hard against the older man's before Mick even met his first. Mick couldn't even smile against him with how hard Nikki was taking over, as much as his body wanted to. Nikki mouthed at Mick's bottom lip as if he was trying to swallow it whole, and then went right ahead getting his tongue familiar with every inch inside his mouth. Mick let him do what he wanted; he took it all with quiet moans as his bassist devoured him. Nikki whined like a wild animal, and sure as hell kissed like one too. Mick realized he had never been kissed like that before- not by anyone. But he fucking _loved_ it.

His hands idly found Nikki's waist to softly paw at it over his pants, dipping his fingertips under the shirt and ghosting over his hot skin. The bassist didn't even notice as he made out with Mick like his life depended on it. Mick tried to properly kiss him back to show how much he was enjoying it, but Nikki was too fast and much too eager.

He decided to pull away for a breath when he felt drool run down his chin. He managed to push Nikki enough for the younger man to obey and let him go, gasping and panting as he stared down at Mick with intense eyes. Mick wiped his chin and cracked the grin that was waiting on his lips.

"Sorry," Nikki giggled.

"Don't be," Mick laughed back. He held Nikki's cheek with a gentle hand. "You sure you want me though? I might be too old to keep up with you," Mick's joke was actually a deep concern brewing in his guts, but he hopped it came off as otherwise.

 _"I'll follow you however fast you are, Mick. No matter how slow you ever want to go, I'll always be right there."_ Nikki whispered his answer.

It wasn't what Mick had been expecting. He sat dumbfounded, practically in Nikki's lap, staring up at him as his brain tried to process the statement. After a moment of silence, and a far away wailing siren had gone down the street and disappeared in the distance, Mick realized something.

He loved Nikki. And Nikki loved him more than anyone ever had.

 _"I love you too,"_ He said. Nikki kissed him again with a little more sense, this time enjoying it for everything it was. _"You want me to tell you about where I'm from, sometime?"_ He whispered against Nikki's chin when they parted for a second time.

 _"Hell yeah,"_ Nikki beamed down at him. He kissed his guitarist again. So many lonely years of hopeless waiting, finally brought to an end...

Five minutes passed before the two found themselves laying in bed as close to one another as they could possibly get. Mick showered Nikki's face in kisses that earned him a beautiful laugh from the younger man, for once not tainted at all by the endless struggles of their lives. Band or no band, Mick loved Nikki and knew that Nikki loved him. It had been a painfully long time since Mick had last felt that...

Nikki planted his lips somewhere on Mick's neck one last time before he finally yawned and went limp against him. His fingers massaged the older man's hips over his sweatpants, and Mick thought about how somehow, someway, it dulled the never ending pain in them. He fell asleep soon after to the sound of Nikki's breathing, and the feeling of his beating heart.


	3. Piece of Heaven (If it Existed)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (NSFW)  
> Short chapter to see where they've come so far... It's nothing perfect, but it sure as hell feels like it.

**Two years later**

_"You're the most beautiful thing I've ever fucking seen. And fucked, for that matter."_

It was one of many sayings that Mick Mars regularly heard in recent years. After Nikki Sixx admitted his love for him that fateful night, and Mick fully returned it, they wasted not a moment more than they already had before jumping right into a relationship. It was the greatest one Mick had ever known in all his years of life; nothing but trust, caring, affection, everything Mick had always been missing without even realizing. It had been a rather drastic change going from being unwanted by the world and kicked out the back door, to being in a band that actually liked him, to then having a gorgeous man named Nikki Sixx give him all the love in his beat up heart. Mick had panicked the first few nights, wondering if Nikki was just playing a sick game and soon he'd kick Mick in the balls just like every woman before him had. But those fiery fears were quickly doused when Nikki would find him in the night, and kiss those tears away. Their relationship was something so real, so beautiful- Mick had spent his whole life believing he was never worth anything like it.

Nikki confidently labeled it true love, while Mick thought it was definitely something so much more. Although, that may just have been his older age talking.

Either way, he was in love with Nikki. And Nikki was in love with him. He made sure Mick was reminded of that fact at least every hour, every day.

_"I fuckin' love you."_

Right on cue, Mick's musings about how he had ever lived without his bassist at his side were cut short when Nikki bent down and met his lips. Mick smiled as he kissed him back with two hands cupping the younger man's cheeks.

 _"I love you more, idiot."_ He said quietly when they parted.

"Impossible. Want me to remind you just how much I love you, old man?" Nikki growled as he dove back in to latch onto Mick's neck. The guitarist chuckled as Nikki groped his ass and started teething a fresh hickey, right next to the fading one from three days ago.

"As soon as we get home," Mick answered. He knew the dangerous game Nikki was starting to play- he'd been playing it for two years now.

They were standing alone in the studio, after the band had made the decision to try and record a little more than what they attempted the day prior. The four members of Motley Crue had started hot on a new song Nikki was calling _Bastard_ , but progress was quickly slowed when the bassist found a new _pastime_ he rather enjoyed doing at all the wrong moments... Only two hours into their last practice, and the second Tommy and Vince left the room Nikki pounced on Mick like a cat on the hunt. He may as well have been on the hunt, with how fast he coaxed Mick into laying on the couch and getting a good fuck in before they came back.

They never got caught, but Mick's playing had been too slow afterwords for any useful tracks to be kept. Nikki wasn't much help, with the amount of jokes and teasing pokes he kept sending Mick's way whenever the guitarist would sit back on the couch. Tommy was just more confused than humored, and Nikki had to call it quits not long after before Vince lost his mind at the lack of focus.

So Motley Crue returned the next day with a lot more focus in tow, and things were finally moving forward. But when Tommy and Vince made their leave for lunch four hours in- Nikki shot Mick a look that ordered _stay_. Mick knew he shouldn't have listened- he should have taken Tommy up on the invitation to join him and Vince, and kept that focus going. But, as always he couldn't deny his Nikki anything. Never. And there that loyalty was, biting him in the ass.

Nikki had Mick bent over one of the many Marshall amps lining the walls, just because he asked him to.

 _"Bet you're glad there's no fucking cameras in here, huh?"_ Nikki had growled through a crooked smile when he pulled Mick's jeans down to knees, spreading his pale legs as far as they could go. He'd taught his guitarist to quit wearing belts ages ago. _"So they don't fuckin' see what I'm about to do to you,"_ He hissed through a hot breath as he kneeled on the ground behind Mick, and silenced his own desperate panting with two fingers shoved in his mouth. Mick knew he _really_ should have stopped Nikki- Tommy and Vince may take insanely long lunch breaks, but they still had work to do. Their _Shout at the Devil_ album was taking longer than any record Mick had ever worked on; and he knew it was because of the current situation he found himself in. _They just never seemed to learn a lesson._ But, Mick supposed that was what Motley Crue was about- never learning lessons when they fucked up or got fucked.

After the first four months of blissfully dating Nikki, Mick had finally agreed to have sex with him. But sex was the wrong word for it- he should have called it something more like _making love._ Nikki was a wild animal every moment of every day, untamable in everything he did. He had been grabbing the bull by the horns and ripping them clean off for over twenty years, and now that he was finally free, no one was a match for him. Especially not when he had the rest of Motley Crue at his side. The media had quickly learned the name of Nikki Sixx as him and Tommy wreaked havoc through the streets of the Sunset Strip and demolished every stage they met.

But there was a side of Nikki that only Mick Mars knew. He was the only one that got to see the bassist through the glamour of the drugs and alcohol he hid behind. Nikki may act like a heathen in the clubs each night, but when they went home, safely locked away together behind closed doors- he showed his true colors.

He was so _gentle_ with Mick. He kissed him like he was made of glass, and one wrong move would shatter him to pieces. He touched Mick so softly, every movement carefully thought through as he worshiped the older man's body. Nothing he did was done without asking Mick first- Nikki made it clear that this was the one thing in his life that he for once didn't want to fuck up. When he'd stumble through the door at the deep hours of the night, after a long day of endless afterparties, he'd strip his clothes and sneak in bed with Mick to kiss his apologies down the older man's bare chest. Mick had told him multiple times before that he didn't _need_ to be sorry- he didn't mind Nikki staying out all night. He knew how much his bassist enjoyed hitting the clubs with his terror twin. He _trusted_ Nikki. He knew he wouldn't be unfaithful, or do anything a little too far over the invisible line drawn in the sand.

But when they made love; it was the most gratifying thing either of them had ever known. Nikki fucked him rough, but always knew where to stop. How fast to move. What to touch, what not to touch. Where to kiss and where not to poke, or bite, or scratch. The first time he'd laid Mick in bed, he admitted that he hadn't actually ever had sex with a man before, much less one he was in love with. Mick simply kissed the worry away and admitted the same. They figured it out together. Mistakes were made, but never anything they couldn't laugh at later.

It took only five months in for them to learn the important things.

One: Mick preferred bottoming, but _fuck_ did he know how to top. If he didn't mention otherwise- _because Mick was always the one to decide_ \- Nikki was the one going in between spread legs. This rule was very much proven true by the two fingers currently working up Mick's ass, as the older man's grip tightened on the amp beneath him. Usually he'd let Nikki hear how good he was doing, but this time he bit his tongue to avoid anyone that may be passing by outside getting a little too curious.

 _"You fuckin' like that, Mickey?"_ Nikki giggled as he stared at his skilled hand working deeper into his love. His other held an iron grip on the soft flesh of his rear, spreading Mick's cheeks to get a good view of his vulgar work. 

_"Fuck yeah,_ " Mick's groan of pleasure was enough for Nikki to push deep to the knuckles over and over again.

Two: Nikki liked drawing blood, but his guitarist didn't agree so eagerly. It took a little coaxing each time, but Mick was always swooned into biting just a little harder, or keeping his nails a tiny bit longer. They were rather shit for playing guitar, but Mick learned to work around them. Nikki enjoyed the scratches spread across his skin showing off what he had. And when Nikki broke out the puppy eyes, asking ever so sweetly if he could make Mick bleed this time? The bassist made it worth the pain. He drank every drop until the red stopped running and Mick was joking about him being some sort of vampire.

Nikki leaned forward while Mick was distracted to take a decent bite right into the tender muscle and flesh of his contracting thighs. _Well, sometimes he asked first._ The guitarist hissed and jostled beneath him, but Nikki knew how to latch on and hang on tight. He giggled through the drool pooling from his mouth as his teeth sunk to break the flesh, eagerly drinking up the small drops of blood that leaked between his lips. A soft lick in apology soon after was all that was needed for Mick to let it pass.

And three, the most important one of all: _Nikki didn't fucking share._

Girls, girls, and more girls- they were a permanent part of Motley's life. The most favorite drug for half of them. An endless supply of pussy at their feet, begging for a taste of _real_ rock n' roll sex. During every concert, after every concert, at every party and even every club. Women from all parts of L.A. didn't hesitate to drop their dates and give a yank at one of the band members' belts. Tommy and Vince loved it- they had too much sex and quite frankly never shut up about it. Nikki pretended to like it- maybe even go as far as to tell a girl to meet him in the back bedroom, but send Tommy in instead. The two quickly made a running gag of Nikki finding the hottest girl at a party, according to Tommy's low standards, and getting her ready for his friend in some part of the house. It then turned into Nikki spreading word that if a girl just asked the question, he could have the drummer of Motley Crue screwing them in under three minutes flat! But, whether Tommy would actually show up and give them a good fuck was up to the drummer. And more often than not- he didn't. It was hilarious, and when Tommy was done either way they would get high and laugh their asses right off.

Nikki stopped doing it, however, when Mick found out and told them to knock it off. That it was pretty fucking rude to play games with a woman's body and get her hopes up like that. Nikki made a pretty good apology later that night, but obeyed his guitarist from then on. Tommy had seemed rather confused as to why his terror twin suddenly wanted nothing to do with girls, and Nikki almost told him why. But he bit his tongue and kept the real reason a secret; _that he was head over heels for their guitarist, and never wanted to make him mad again._ Tommy and Vince could go screw around with whomever they wanted; Nikki didn't want any part of it.

And when the girls tried to get with Mick, when the silent shredder would actually show up to a party? Nikki had to hold back from breaking bone. There was a night after their concert at the Whiskey, when a girl got much too courageous and planted a nasty kiss right on Mick's lips. The guitarist didn't even have time to push her off before his knight in sweaty leather gripped a fistful of her blonde curls, and yanked her head back so hard Mick worried he'd break her damn neck. The bassist threw her to the ground with one arm, but when he couldn't come up with a lie fast enough for all the stunned onlookers as to why he did it- he just laughed manically, blaming it on the cocaine. Luckily the poor girl thought it was pretty fucking funny too, and got right back up. But Mick most certainly didn't. That was the second time he got mad at Nikki, and the second time the bassist rolled over and had to promise to never do it again.

 _"I will say, though; that made me pretty damn hard."_ Mick whispered in his ear that night to ease Nikki's nerves, after the bassist was denied any sex until Mick was sure he had learned some sort of lesson.

So while Nikki had kept up his promise to never hit a woman again, no matter how close she got to Mick- trusting that the guitarist was old and loyal enough to say no on his own- he had instead taken to marking Mick up enough to get a clear message across. _He was taken._ No one may know by who exactly, but they didn't need to. All they needed to understand, was that the fine ass in those skin tight leather pants was _un-a-fucking-vailable._

And when Nikki brought home a thick leather collar one day, and placed it around Mick's neck when the older man was sleeping? He insisted it was _just_ for good measure. He also told Mick when he'd awoken that it was something for him hold onto while he fucked the guitarist, so he didn't keep taking handfuls of those gorgeous long locks each time. Nikki went right ahead with demonstrating for him right after.

Tommy and Vince had, unfortunately, thought it was a pretty badass look though. Despite being unaware of the real meaning behind it, and the bruises it hid on that soft neck, they went out and got got two identical ones just for themselves. Tommy, being the ever so kind best friend that he was, even got one for Nikki. Nikki was going to throw it away and say he lost it, then go pout about having to buy a new one special for Mick again; but the older man got his payback when he hooked it around Nikki's neck the first chance he got. Nikki begrudgingly wore it for a week to please his lover, but Mick saw the uncomfortable urge quickly grow inside him to rip away at any constraints. He eventually took it off one night after fucking Nikki in bed long and slow until they both came twice, and set it on the bedside table. He knew Nikki would always be too wild to ever be owned; and he loved that about him. He told Nikki this fact when they curled up together under the moonlight, and Nikki nearly broke his heart with what he replied with.

 _"You're the only one that can ever own me, Mars."_ He sighed the soft words against Mick's chest, before drifting off into a peaceful sleep. Mick laid awake for another hour after that- just watching his love rest against him. Safe, cared for, unhurt, unchained from the world; Nikki was free from the tight grasp of life he had worked so hard to wiggle out of. And Mick was the only one he trusted to hold him.

Mick _cherished_ him.

 _"Oh, fuck,"_ Mick gasped through his teeth when Nikki pushed a third finger in. Nikki laughed deep in his throat and Mick could hear him lick his lips.

 _"Still tight as ever, old man,"_ Nikki whispered. He groaned impatiently as his hand moved back and fourth, stretching Mick out. The guitarist started rocking his hips back against it, asking for more but Nikki knew what he needed and kept the three digits steady. Mick's lower back and hips began protesting against the position, but he knew they wouldn't be there long enough to cause any lasting damage. Nikki finally worked his pinky in with a shuddered gasp of approval from Mick. _"I love the sounds you make, fuck..."_ Nikki moaned. He leaned forward to press his lips against Mick's bare ass again, biting more softly and earning a wiggle from the older man.

 _"F-Fuck,"_ Mick chuckled through a moan as his legs tried to spread even more against the restraints of his pants. Nikki grinned as he moved a little lower and sucked a new hickey on the backside of Mick's thigh. After the flesh was swollen and bruised, coated in Nikki's spit, the bassist pulled back and released his hand from inside Mick. The guitarist whined just like he did every time, always feeling so incomplete without something buried inside him. _"Hurry baby,"_ He let it slip and bit his tongue, hoping Nikki hadn't heard him.

"Oh?" _Shit_. "You want me to hury up?" Nikki spoke from behind him and Mick tried to turn his head and look back at the younger man. He saw Nikki's face through the wall of his own hair, and gripped the amp tighter at the mischievous look twinkling in those green eyes. _"Why's that, babe?"_ Nikki whispered and stood up. Mick quivered underneath his gaze; unsure if it was the feral way his lover was moving, or the shockwave of pleasure that hit his innards. _"Worried someone might catch us?"_ Nikki pressed his clothed hips flush against Mick's bare, bruising ass. The older man groaned as he had to release his head from the craned position and stare back at the floor. Nikki snaked a hand down to carefully stroke Mick's hips down to the erection hanging between the man's legs, dripping precum down his prized Marshall.

 _"Nikki,"_ Mick whined again. Nikki only giggled as he gently stroked Mick once, holding the tip of his cock for a moment in his palm before letting go. Mick closed his eyes as he heard him finally undo his belt and drop his own pants.

"But now I _gotta_ go slow..." The last words Mick heard from Nikki as the bassist used his wet hand to work himself slick and line his dick up. He pushed into Mick with ease, reveling in the tightness that never seemed to go away no matter how many times they did this. Mick groaned just as slow as Nikki went in, and could practically feel the wide grin spreading along the younger man's lips. _"Look how good you are,"_ He whispered down to the guitarist.

It made Mick pathetically shiver when Nikki's hips pressed hard against his rear end yet again, this time with a cock making home in his ass. Nikki moaned as he pulled back out to the tip, and gingerly thrusted in again.

 _"Love you, fucker,"_ He praised Mick as he did it for a third time. Mick's muscles couldn't help but clench, and Nikki gasped at the sudden tightness. _"F-Fuck, always so good..."_ The bassist rolled his head back and to the side, closing his eyes as his dick did the rest of the talking for them. Mick's head dropped limp in pleasure, the tips of his toes raising his ass as high as he could manage to get Nikki even deeper. Usually Nikki would get a steady pace going by the fifth thrust, and then speed up after that- but not this time. Mick had screwed himself in more ways than one, and Nikki was just playing the same ol' game. He kept at it as steady as when he started. He rolled his hips when he was down to the hilt, feeling every inch of Mick's insides as his erection pulsed deep within him. Mick moaned again, hoping Nikki would cut him some slack and get to it- but the older man was left balancing on the thin edge of the finest pleasure his body would ever know. Nikki laughed lowly as he pulled all the way out suddenly, looking down at his dripping member and feeling Mick quiver beneath his hands. He moved one of them from Mick's warm waist, to slip it beneath his shirt and rub gentle strokes up and down his back. _"Easy_ , _"_ He cooed. "Don't want to rush it now, do we?"

 _Evil fucker._ Mick nearly laughed as Nikki giggled like a madman. The bassist finally pushed back in, slinking down to the bones of his pelvis and sitting there. He didn't move inside his guitarist, and Mick was losing his goddamned mind. He cried out like he knew Nikki enjoyed so much, but it only earned him a kiss to the back of his head as Nikki leaned forward to drape himself over Mick's body.

 _"Shhhh,"_ Nikki whispered into his ear through the mess of black hair. He nosed through it to press a soft kiss on his skin around the wild mane. _"I'm enjoying the moment."_ Nikki's hand on Mick's back pulled out from between their smashed bodies, and ran down to paw at the older man's pecs. Mick moaned in his throat as Nikki toyed with his nipple, rolling himself slightly to the side to allow him better access. Nikki then decided that he would put all his attention on massaging Mick's chest, rather than the rock hard dick currently pulsing in the man's ass. Mick waited patiently, trying to fight the shivers that racked his frame every time it twitched inside him. He focused on how good Nikki's fingers felt prodding against his nipples, and not the tip of the cock ghosting his prostate. Nikki was so close to touching it- all Mick had to do was angle his rear up just a little more, and Nikki could hit it. But he knew his hips were no match to move against the bass player's heavy weight, so he waited it out. His own abandoned dick hung begging between his thighs, probably staining up his amp with how much it was leaking.

Nikki finally decided he had his fill of tounging the back of Mick's ear and hardening his nipples, and stood back up. Mick kept his eyes closed and head limp, praying that Nikki would finally screw him good.

His prayers of course weren't answered when the younger man went back to his slow thrusts, moaning at the fight Mick was putting up.

 _"Nikki!"_ He begged restlessly again, kicking his hips back a little harder as his abdomen filled with heat that desperately wanted to escape.

 _"Mickeyyy,"_ Nikki mocked him back and Mick wished his legs weren't so tied up so he could spin around and shove his foot right in Nikki's face. Mick kept his mouth shut, and buried his face in the crook of his arm. His face was burning hot with unattended arousal. "Come on, don't be mad, love! This is the only time I ever get to hear that beautiful voice of yours get so loud!" Nikki's praise knew just how to turn Mick on even more. "Ask me right, baby."

Mick still held his tongue, battling the pride and arousal fighting in his chest.

 _"I won't do it until you ask."_ Another painfully slow thrust with a wiggle at the end when it was buried deep.

 _"Fuck me."_ Mick finally whispered into his arms.

 _"I can't hear yooouuu."_ Nikki did it again. He circled his cock around to rub everywhere but where Mick wanted him to touch.

 _"Please, Nikki!"_ Mick tried to turn and look at him again.

"Please what?"

_"Please, fuck me faster!"_

"How fast?" He was brave enough to pull out and go back in even slower than before.

 _"Fast enough to fucking break me!"_ Mick's harmless anger was Nikki's favorite part.

He finally decided Mick's answer was good enough and to quit torturing his lover, pausing before sucking in a breath. He started moving again, then sped up. Mick gasped and threw his head back as the tip of Nikki's cock teased his favorite spot. The younger man moved faster, finally fucking into him at a normal pace that earned the most glorious moans from his guitarist.

 _"You gonna get some fuckin' work done on this song now?"_ Nikki teased him through a clenched jaw as he leaned forward and gripped a fistful of Mick's dark hair. The older man jumped and raised his ass higher against Nikki's waist, crying out as he gripped the amp with a building climax.

 _"F-Fuck you,"_ He hissed with a devilish smile.

 _"When we're done with the song you can,"_ Nikki bent down to kiss his temple again. _"And right after I teach you how to properly beg."_ His other hand gripped Mick's side hard enough to leave a decent bruise for the next morning, knowing to never dare grip the man's hips that hard. Mick hadn't told him about his shitty back issues yet, but Nikki- being the angel that he was- had somehow caught on to something and always left his hips alone. Mick noticed this, and couldn't help but think that he really didn't deserve him. _"Fuck, I gotta find your collar again, old man. Can't keep ruining your perfect hair, baby..."_

It took only two minutes of Nikki pounding into him, hitting his prostate every few thrusts, before Mick finally came with a bone rattling shiver. He lost his load in an impressive climax that sent cum running down the side of his expensive amp as he laid shuddering beneath Nikki. His hips rolled against the monster of a cock wrecking him in all the best ways as his orgasm fueled the fire burning in his guts.

 _"Fuck, Nikki!"_ He cried out between Nikki's speeding motions. The bassist finally followed him close behind and orgasmed as soon as Mick caught his ragged breath. He filled Mick up with his warmth but kept humping him hard up until the last drop had left his dick. Nikki slowed to a stop until he was rocking softly against Mick's ass and rolling his hips in circles, memorizing the feeling of his cum filling Mick to the very brim. He started down at the sight of his cock when he pulled out and brought a thick string of warm fluids with it. One of his hands kneaded Mick's upper waist, massaging the muscles into relaxing until his guitarist was laying limp over the amp.

 _"So good,"_ Nikki breathed. He quickly stripped his shirt off and used it to gently towel Mick's thighs, dick, and ass dry, before cleaning himself off and tossing the clothing over to the studio's couch. He missed, and the shirt instead landed on the floor but he didn't give a shit enough to go move it. He turned back to Mick, who was trying to stand up, and softly rubbed the man's sides as he wobbled and had to pause halfway. Mick moaned something inaudible under his weakened breath as he leaned with two hands on the amp. Nikki could tell his legs would give out pretty soon, and bent down to pull his pants back up and button them. He tucked the older man's softening dick away behind the zipper, then yanked his own jeans up. He wrapped an arm around Mick's torso to gently lead him over to the sofa. He kicked the filthy, discarded shirt out of the way and to the side, setting his guitarist down on the leather cushions.

"You good?" Nikki bent down and kissed his flushed cheek.

 _"'Course 'm good,"_ Mick grinned and it made Nikki beam down at him. Mick swallowed and closed his eyes while dropping his head back to rest on the couch. Nikki stood in front of him examining him for a moment, before deciding to sit straddling Mick's lap and lean against his chest. The bassist wrapped two arms around Mick's torso, holding him close in a tight hug that irritated the older man's spine slightly, and rested his chin on Mick's shoulder.

 _"Love you,"_ He mumbled into the mess of hair.

 _"Love you too."_ It was Mick's turn to kiss Nikkis temple. He brought a hand up to affectionately massage Nikki's head through his teased hair. _"You're too good to me."_

"No 'm not, _you're_ too good for _me_." Nikki kissed his neck. Mick couldn't stop a yawn from escaping his mouth as his other arm used it's last bit of strength to wrap around Nikki in a weak hug. His ass was still tingling, and he could feel Nikki's cum slowly making it's way back out running over his sore skin. He moaned slightly and adjusted his position, but whether it was to better feel it or make it stop- he couldn't tell anymore.

 _"Still feel me in there?"_ Nikki caught on and grinned a devilish smile against Mick's throat.

"Of course. I always do. I'll still feel it tonight. It's all I fucking think about sometimes," He kissed Nikki's head again, earning a delightful chuckle full of pride.

"Good. Just don't let it mess up your playing today," Nikki teased.

Mick giggled and eventually fell limp under Nikki's heavy weight. Judging from the time Tommy and Vince had left, to the time currently reading on the clock; they had about three minutes left if the two were on their usual break schedule.

"Alright, come on," He patted Nikki's back for the younger man to stand. The bassist listened without a problem, reaching forward to hook a finger on Mick's shirt collar and bring the guitarist up with him.

They eventually found themselves working away on their song yet again that day, playing flawlessly along side Tommy and Vince as each band member took turns recording their parts. Tommy had asked why the hell Nikki was suddenly half naked and if he had jacked off into his discarded shirt over there, and Nikki just laughed. He replied with, _"You could say something like that,"_ and left it at that as he went over to sit next to Mick on the couch. Tommy halfheartedly laughed at the joke he was missing the point of, and bounded back over to his drums to carry on the killer solo. The day continued with no issues until they had their first demo of _Bastard_ on tape.

 _"Hey... We ever gonna tell them?"_ Mick asked Nikki that night as they laid in bed, naked and tangled together under the sheets.

 _"Maybe. If you really want to. Probably should, at least before we hit it big with Elektra..."_ Nikki answered too quickly and ended it with a hard kiss on Mick's cheek.

The guitarist knew that meant a no. And that was okay. So he didn't ask again, or prompt for more. He brushed the bangs out of Nikki's nearly sleeping face, and held his jaw to softly press his lips against the younger man's.

" _Just know I'll always love you,"_ He whispered. Nikki didn't hear it, however, as he had fallen asleep just seconds before. And that was okay too. Mick trusted that Nikki knew it no matter what.


	4. Now You Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Tommy discovers an important truth his best friend was hiding.

Tommy Lee fucked up a lot. It was just in his unruly nature, everyone knew that... Just say his name in any part of town, and someone out there would have a story about the infamous drummer doing something way too far off the deep end. His parents knew it. His band knew it. Hell, even Tommy knew it. He may be an oddball screw up that rarely regretted defying all social laws, but he clearly knew enough to know when he'd definitely over done it.

And he for sure, one hundred percent, no doubt about it, had royaly over done it. He was fucking _screwed_.

_"Tommy you motherfucker, open up!"_

Tommy rarely heard Nikki tap into the feral, untamed rage that constantly brewed deep in his soul after countless years of neglect. He'd only heard that true primal anger come from the bassist maybe one other time, and he could hardly remember the cause or out come of it back then. He wished he did, because Nikki was currently every sort of pissed off at Tommy right now and most certainly letting it all lose on his terror twin. Nikki sure as hell knew how to get angry and pitch a real fiery ball of hot headed rage- and it was the first time Tommy was on the receiving end.

So Tommy was only certain of two things as he sat cowering behind the bed he shared with his girlfriend in her shitty apartment, while Nikki worked on busting down the door with his own bare hands. One: his best friend was dating his other best friend, and never even told him. Two: Tommy had kissed said-other best friend, and best friend number one was ready to _slaughter_ him.

_Yeah. He'd fucked up._ But how the hell was he supposed to know? Wouldn't Nikki think to _tell_ Tommy he was in love with Mick, considering Tommy kissed every person he was friends with at some point in time!?

_"Tommy get out here so I can kick your ass, fucker!"_ Nikki roared like a tiger when he was sober and pissed off, and Tommy felt tears swell in his eyes at the fact that it was because of him. Nikki getting mad at someone else was one thing they could all laugh at, but when it was actually directed at _him?_ Tommy wanted to fucking wet himself. He brought his knees to his chest, praying to whatever god was out there that Nikki just wouldn't make it through the piece of wood currently saving his life... The bassist punched it two more times until splinters cracked, and Tommy thought about how he felt a lot like Wendy from _The Shining_ when Jack was axing his way through the door. He was expecting Nikki to make a big enough hole any second now to be able to shove his own face through it, and yell something like _'Heeeere's Nikki! And guess what! You're out of the fucking band!'_

_Fuck_ , his girlfriend was totally going to kill him. She would for sure break up with him when she got home after seeing what Tommy's band wasn't afraid to do, and then he'd be forced to move in with Vince again...

The drummer was biting his lip against silent sobs as Nikki tried the door handle again, when suddenly a new voice joined the chaos. It was from somewhere down the hall, and didn't sound nearly as pissed off as Nikki was. The muffled shout was just too far enough away that Tommy couldn't tell what the hell it said or who it was. All he realized was that it somehow broke through the wall of flames in Nikki's brain and made the bassist stop his frantic pounding against the door. There was silence for a second, then another uproar snarl from Nikki as a fist met the wood again.

_"He knows what he did!"_

The stranger's voice spoke immediately again as Nikki finished, and Tommy realized that it was Mick. _Fuck, he hoped he wasn't mad too..._ Tommy couldn't handle both of them being furious with him. He never wanted any trouble! He _tried_ to explain to his bandmate (as he ran down the street all the way to his girl's place, Nikki snapping at his heels after the bassist had walked in and caught Tommy's lips pressed against Mick's) that he didn't mean any harm! He'd simply kissed Mick because that's just what Tommy _did._ Mick had actually complimented his drumming for the first time ever, and he just got pumped up! But Nikki didn't believe him.

Tommy was dealing with not only Nikki's uncontrollable rage, but also the newfound knowledge that Nikki might actually be some sort of in-fucking- _love_ with their guitarist. That hit his heart a different sort of way because, well... _Fuck_. _Never mind._ He was always too late. Tommy would have a lot to process after Nikki vandalized their home and ripped his face off. He'd never seen the bassist so protective over, well... _anyone_. It scared him.

Tommy felt the tears fall from his sorry eyes, and managed to stand up next to the bed. He saw that the door indeed had a nice dented crack through the white painted wood that let through just a sliver of light from the other side. _His poor girlfriend_ , he thought. She didn't really deserve the destructiveness Motley Crue took with them everywhere...

Nikki was quiet while Mick spoke more softhearted words Tommy couldn't make out.

_"He's a traitor-"_ Nikki hissed. He sounded like a goddamn rattlesnake; it made Tommy shiver. He felt like a rabbit hiding in the den from the jowls of a wolf.

_"You know he's not, now fucking relax!"_ Mick's words could have held a lot of venom too, but the older man didn't sound nearly as lethal as he should have. His gentle voice spoke with only confidence and a stern tone. Tommy was baffled as it did the impossible, and calmed Nikki down a little.

_"He kissed you... He can't just go around kissing people, especially you! You're mine!"_ Nikki could be heard stepping away from the door, so Tommy inched closer.

"Nikki, you know Tommy didn't mean it that way. Don't be so stupid. You know he acts like that with everyone, and you also know I'd never betray you like that..." Mick trailed off to whisper the last part, but Tommy was pretty sure he said something along the lines of ' _I love you too much to do that.'_ Tommy- ever the hopeless romantic- felt his heart twist at the painfully honest comment. If he had gone and screwed up something so beautiful and meaningful for Nikki and Mick... _fuck, he'd never forgive himself..._

The two outside the door were silent for many seconds, save for a few confused, protesting remarks from Nikki mumbled in agitation. They were muffled a little, and Tommy bet it was because they were spoken against Mick's chest in a pouting hug. He could hear them shifting slightly after that, and hoped they would finally leave so Tommy could go cry to a beer and try and fix the door before his girlfriend got home.

_"Tommy, come here,"_ Mick spoke up.

_Shit. No luck there._ The drummer remained planted in the middle of the room. He looked to the door handle, and saw that the lock magically hadn't been busted.

_"Tommy, please..."_ The guitarist tried again after Tommy refused him. The drummer could hear Nikki practically growling out there, so he remained frozen. Maybe if he played dead long enough, Nikki wouldn't think he still needed to kill him.

_"Let's just go..."_ The bassist finally sighed. It didn't sound very pissy anymore- more so full of a long day's endless problems that had finally built up into overbearing exhaustion. Silence followed behind footsteps heard heading down the carpet hallway. But just when Tommy sighed a breath of relief at the first taste of safety, Mick spoke kindly through the broken door one last time before slipping away as well. 

_"Tommy, don't be scared. It's okay... I'm not mad."_

***

"I don't know why you let him off the hook so easy. He had his slutty lips all over yours..." Nikki's snarl into Mick's ear when they finally got home could send any dog running with it's tail between it's legs.

"Because he didn't mean any harm and I know you know that. Don't act so possessive... I should be punishing _you_ for breaking that girl's door and making Tommy cry." Mick would usually play along with Nikki's oh-so popular anger, but he was over his lover's antics for the day. He truly had no idea why Nikki was so unbelievably worked up over Tommy placing an innocent kiss on Mick's lips earlier that day. Tommy fucking kissed _everyone_ he liked- it's not like he tried to get in Mick's pants! "You should have _told_ him we were together if you didn't want him touching me..." Mick slipped out from between Nikki's arms to walk to their room. Nikki deflated to sit down on the couch, pouting up at the guitarist through his dark bangs. 

His silence let Mick know that Nikki knew he was right. Of _course_ Mick was right- he knew everything about those three idiots.

_"I didn't wanna tell him..."_ He finally mumbled. Mick stopped in the doorway of their shared room.

"Then you shouldn't be surprised when people act like they don't know. Because they fucking _don't_. _"_ Mick closed the door.

He took in a heavy sigh as he leaned against the door, rubbing a hand over his face. Maybe he had been a little too harsh on Nikki, but maybe Nikki needed a fucking reminder that Mick wasn't his _dog_. He was his _boyfriend_. Mick sure loved him a whole goddamned lot, but sometimes the younger man needed to be taught a lesson: that Mick may let Nikki put a collar around his neck all the time, but _Mick_ was the one in control. The leash worked the other way around. Mick just allowed Nikki a little too much slack every now and then on accident, so he had to tighten it back up again.

Nikki didn't say anything out in the living room. Mick stood still against the wood as he listened in; he expected the bassist to get pissed again and throw something, or storm off to go find drugs in the streets and break Mick's heart a little more. But it seemed the younger man at least had enough common sense to know that he'd broken it enough for one day, and simply flopped onto the couch with a groan.

Mick rubbed his eyes as he made his way over to the bed and stripped down until he was naked, then crawled into the cold sheets. The sun had only set about an hour ago, and call him old but he was fucking _exhausted_. He propped himself up on the many pillows he'd subtly acquired over the years, and stared up at the ceiling as he listened to Nikki flop around on the couch. He knew the bassist was probably going to sleep in his tight jeans out of pure spite, and Mick felt a pang of sorrow in his own old heart. He didn't _want_ to isolate Nikki- but the younger man just went so far overboard sometimes. Mick knew that if he kept rewarding such bad behavior, it would only get worse...

_Why did Nikki have to act so possessive sometimes, he wondered? Didn't he trust Mick?_

Sometime after one AM, when Nikki finally fell silent outside, Mick managed to drift off to sleep to thoughts of them making love on the beach. He daydrempt of that gorgeous white smile laughing cheerfully with joy at his side under a bright sun, waves crashing behind them, together forever for the rest of all time. Mick really hoped it wasn't just a lovesick illusion conjured up in his brain, and that one day, Nikki actually would learn to let lose a little. That he would remember to trust Mick as well as himself.

***

When Mick awoke the next morning to a pink sunrise, he was still alone in bed laying like a naked corpse under the covers. The apartment was silent, much to his unease. He hoped it was because Nikki was sleeping somewhere inside, and not slinking around the streets sniffing for drugs (despite the fact that Nikki would never actually be up at such an hour anyhow). He'd been relatively decent lately at not shooting up and snorting so much; the past year had seen the bassist choosing to stay on the sidelines with Mick, while Tommy and Vince took control of the town without him. The first time he'd remained home content with Mick instead of hitting the clubs with his terror twin, Mick had been all but baffled. He hadn't even asked Nikki to stay behind- the bassist simply bid farewell to his bandmates, closed the door behind them, and spun around to slip between Mick's arms, asking something like _'so, what's on the agenda for tonight, old man?'_ Mick didn't know how to respond. He hugged Nikki back, and raffled off the first random answer that came to mind- probably something along the lines of writing a new song, although no songwriting actually got done that night.

When Nikki eventually started an obvious trend of skipping out on Motley Crue's deviant endeavors amongst the street rat squalors, Mick finally worked up the courage to ask the younger man about it one night as they curled up together in bed. Nikki had replied with, _'Because I love you a fuck ton more than strippers and coke. My heart likes you a lot better...'_ He then proceeded to bury his face in the spot between Mick's neck and the pillow they shared, and Mick was glad that he couldn't see the tears that escaped his eyes and wet his hair.

As Mick dressed himself for the day, reminiscing on that moment, he questioned what he had ever done to deserve such love from someone so goddamn amazing. An old drag like him, somehow doing something right so a guy named Nikki Sixx happened to fancy him more than he fancied snorting a line off a girl's chest.

_Maybe he had been a little too harsh on Nikki last night afterall..._

Mick walked to the door and opened it without trying to be quiet, deciding that he needed to apologize to Nikki before he did anything else. Luckily, the bassist had obeyed his silent order to stay home and behave himself until Mick decided what to do with him, and was promptly passed out on the couch where the guitarist left him. Mick walked up to the sleeping boy and extended a hand to shake him awake, but decided that Nikki sleeping was a lot easier to deal with than Nikki awake. So he instead brushed the hair out of his drooling mouth, and turned to walk to the phone. He had one more bandmate to deal with.

_"Hello?"_ A familiar female voice answered after four rings.

_"Hey, is Tommy there? It's Mick."_ He kept his voice down and peered around the corner to see Nikki still passed out cold.

_"He doesn't wanna talk to you assholes. You guys owe me a new fucking door, by the way! You people are ridiculous sometimes-"_

_"I need to talk to him, is about band shit."_ Mick rolled his eyes.

_"I said he doesn't want to talk to you!"_ Just as her high pitched voice rose with anger, another muffled one cut her off from in the distance. Mick knew it was Tommy straight away. There was a displeased sigh of disapproval, before some shuffling put another voice on the line.

_"M-Mick?"_ Tommy sounded shy and torn the fuck up, as if he'd been crying and smoking for the past six hours. And for all Mick knew, he probably had been.

_"T-Bone, come over, I need to apologize and I'm too old fashioned to do it properly on the phone."_ Mick hoped the sincerity in his voice could be heard through his half-whispering. He ducked his head around the wall again to make sure Nikki was still sleeping.

_"I don't know dude, Nikki is fuckin' pissed..."_ Tommy was definitely crying. _Fuck, Mick swore he wasn't going to have sex with Nikki for a whole goddamned month._

_"No he's not anymore, it's okay."_ Mick cooed. Tommy was quiet as he debated, and when the drummer took too long to answer, Mick spoke again. _"Okay, how about you just meet us at the studio at two, alright?"_ Another pause from the drummer.

_"Yeah... yeah, I can do that,"_ He finally agreed.

_"Good, we'll see you then. And don't cry, it's no big deal..."_ Mick whispered as sweetly as he could, wishing he was there to give Tommy a good hug. The drummer couldn't stop the shy laugh that escaped his lips as he agreed, and hung up the phone.

***

Getting woken up by soft kisses sprinkled over his neck and eyes was a glorious pleasure Nikki had gotten used to over the course of the past three years. He couldn't remember a time when he didn't crack his eyelids open first thing in the morning to see Mick at his side, grinning that gorgeous smile behind a messy curtain of shaggy obsidian hair, as the guitarist pressed those soft lips against his tanned skin. It was grossly romantic- ask Frank Feranna Jr. if he'd expected to be laid all up in bed with the man of his dreams every day and night just years down the road, and he would have knocked your teeth out. But Frank had fucking died, so his opinion didn't matter. Nikki Sixx had found Mick Mars for a second time, and every day he woke up alive with his guitsrist as his side was a fucking blessing.

_Fuck, did he love those moments_. He always kissed Mick back too eagerly, but he didn't give a fuck. And neither did Mick. He was pretty sure he also hugged him a little too tight too, because Mick would always lock up in his arms and grunt with a little more pain than pleasure until Nikki forced himself to let go. _Damn_ , Mick was such a real badass lover, always putting up with Nikki's shit- why was he even single when they had met? Some bitch out there really missed out, that was for sure. Mick always laid with Nikki until his lazy ass finally decided to join the living world, and would then carry him over the bridge of consciousness on soft pink lips. Nikki absolutley hated how weak like jello Mick made his entire body feel in the morning with all that sappy lovey dovey bullshit- but he was addicted to it.

_Yeah... those were the best fucking moments..._

Which was weird, because usually Mick's lips were on his by now.

Nikki waited with closed eyes for what felt like ten minutes, expecting Mick to roll over next to him at the change in Nikki's breath, and knock on the doors to his brain with that perfect mouth.

Nothing happened.

He waited a little more.

And then some more after that. But no one ever moved next to him.

Nikki finally decided he was too awake to start over, and opened his own damn eyes.

_Fuck_.

It wasn't Mick he was met with. It was their cracked coffee table littered with empty bottles that blocked the view of the broken TV, and one of Mick's guitars leaning against the wall. _Right_... he tried to kill Tommy last night because he kissed Mick. That was definitely enough to make Mick rather mad, and Mick had left him on the couch.

_Fuck!_

And so began Nikki's first day in three years waking up alone, with an angry boyfriend he had to yet again apologize to.

_"Hey, is Tommy there? It's Mick."_

Nikki closed his eyes again when he heard Mick speaking on their phone just down the hall. _Shit,_ Nikki was about to be balls deep in trouble if Mick felt he was forced to take matters into his own hands. Nikki played dead as he listened in on the conversation, assuming Mick was talking to Tommy's angry girlfriend. He could practically feel Mick looking over at him every now and then, and it sent chills down his spine...

Mick eventually got a hold of their drummer after all, and Nikki wanted to growl when he heard them agree on meeting that day. Nikki wasn't planning on forgiving Tommy so easily, but Mick- ever the peacekeeper- had other plans it seemed.

_Oh well. He supposed he could play nice. For Mick, at least._

He kept pretending to be asleep and calm his burning chest as socked feet were heard walking over to him. Nikki's heartbeat spiked when Mick stopped near his head, peering down at him. He hoped Mick was about to bend down and finally kiss him, but all hope was lost when the guitarist simply started walking away towards the kitchen. 

So Nikki did what he did best, and let out a long howl of pent up disapproval. Mick jumped with a sharp curse as he whipped around to see Nikki thrashing about on the couch, moaning every sort of inaudible fight through a groggy voice.

_"Miiiiiiick, noooooo!"_ He wailed as he wiped at his dry eyes and ignored the make up smeared on his fingers from doing so. _"I'm sorry! Please, don't leave me!"_ Nikki arched his back with a rather demonic groan and forcefully punched a cushion before flopping still.

"Whoa, what are you doing up so early?" Mick walked over to him, and Nikki couldn't tell if he sounded angry or amused.

_"Don't ignore me, I can't take it anymore!"_ Nikki whined, and Mick grinned because he sounded an awful lot like his son did back when he'd gotten his first taste of the answer _'no.'_ The bassist rolled over to stare up at Mick with fiery green eyes.

"I'm not ignoring you," Mick cooed. He wanted to reach a hand out and smooth that horrendous mop of hair down, but stopped himself. _They were almost there..._

"Yes you are! I slept on the couch in fucking pants for you! Just _kiss_ _me_ , I fucking _miss you!_ You can't hate me forever!" Nikki sat up to launch himself at Mick, but before those thin arms could wrap around his frame Mick shot his hand out first and took a firm, gentle hold around Nikki's throat.

The bassist froze immediately. This was something they had only done a few other times; usually when Nikki was doing something with way too much entitlement where it didn't belong, and Mick had to remind him that he wasn't always the one in charge. Those gorgeous green eyes peered up at baby blues past the tips of black bangs, head tilted all the way up against Mick's strong hand as the guitarist stared down at him with an unreadable expression. Mick held Nikki's head up just high enough to be the best kind of uncomfortable; somewhere between strong enough to keep him still in the position, and soft enough to let him breath. He waited a moment until Nikki's protesting stiffness fell away, and he was sitting lax like a good boy.

Mick then drug his hand up- slowly, carefully, with every thought out motion and speed- to stop right under Nikki's jaw. He felt the bone pressed firm against his thumb and forefinger, Nikki not daring to move a muscle. The younger man's breathing started to strain in his nose as Mick forced his chin up just a little higher until his neck was as stretched as it could be. He waited there, watching until Nikki's focused eyes fell just hooded enough. He'd learnt that lesson the hard way- when one time Nikki had only pretended to be relaxed, but snapped his head down the second Mick loosened his grip to take a bite to the guitarist's wrist. It was just weak enough to not break the skin, but still strong enough to get his point across. Mick didn't get mad- he just started the process over, not a word of displeasure uttered from his lips.

The first time the guitarist ever did his magic little neck hold, was after what was probably about the fifth time they had sex. Nikki was riding the edge of sleep after two decent orgasms, when Mick wrapped his hand softly around that exposed throat and began stroking up and down in a slow, intimate massage. Nikki practically purred out loud as Mick rubbed him to sleep. Mick did it again the next time they made love, when Nikki was a little more awake just after licking Mick's dick clean as he always did. And then again the next time, right as they collapsed together with cum spread between their legs. Nikki was always, without fail, calmed into a glorious mental state of zen when Mick's hand found his soft jugular. It was then the guitarist knew his trick would work for what it was intended.

So the first time he did it when Nikki was high off his mind and pissed off at something stupid, it cooled the bassist off immediately. They were sitting side by side in a dirty booth as Nikki rambled on about threatening to smash some guy's windows in just because he'd said their band totally sucked ass. Mick simply waited for his hands to stop gesturing so wildly, then swooped his right arm around his lover to bring him in close. Mick's hand went to work stroking up and down the soft skin of Nikki's neck until the bassist promptly relaxed- eventually forgetting the conflict all together and instead focusing solely on the hand around his throat. He was a little confused as to why Mick was suddenly implementing bedroom things into public life, but never asked why. And with that, Mick knew his work was done.

After all; if he was going to be dating a wild animal, he needed to have a tranquilizer on hand at all times, right? Or rather, _as_ a hand...

Mick waited until Nikki blinked twice, before stroking his hand just as slowly downwards. Sometimes he could move a little more gentle and faster if Nikki wasn't acting so bad. But in times like this; he made him wait. Nikki obeyed like Mick had taught him to, and kept his head all the way up even as the hand slid down away from his jaw. He tried to swallow but failed in the strained position. Mick kept moving south, pressing a little harder, feeling the hot skin stretch beneath his fingers, and that speedy heartbeat against his palm... It could really turn Mick on, if he wasn't careful.

Nikki didn't dare look away from Mick's intense blue gaze- but they both knew he didn't want to anyhow. The bassist shyly bit the inside of his lower lip as Mick's hand finally stopped below his Adam's apple.

The guitarist waited there. Nikki still didn't move.

_"Good,"_ Mick breathed. Nikki was even better right after the compliment by hiding his smile. He wasn't supposed to enjoy this so much, but Mick couldn't exactly stop him from doing so. He drug his hand upwards again, a little harder so he could feel the ridges of his trachea and Nikki's ass lifted off the couch ever so slightly as not to choke himself. Mick finally grinned at the sight when his thumb and finger hooked under that jaw yet again, and Nikki's eyes closed with arousal as Mick held his head even higher. Nikki was still a good boy, and stayed quiet.

Mick then decided to be nice afterall, and gave him a good stroke downwards once more. This time he rolled his skilled fingers to strongly knead the muscles of Nikki's throat, and the bassist couldn't stop the gasp of approval from the unexpected motion. Mick's hand then shot upwards in a quick, rough motion to tighten under his jaw and restrain Nikki's airway a little more. Nikki couldn't stop the aroused giggle he desperately tried to hide, but Mick let it slide. He grinned as he bent down to finally meet Nikki's eager lips, keeping his head locked in place.

_"I'm not mad at you, Nikki. I should punish you though, you know..."_ Mick whispered against his cheek when he pulled away. Nikki could only groan in agreement. _"But you would like that too much."_

Mick finally loosened his grip ever so slowly until the hand left his neck altogether, and Nikki sunk to lay back onto the couch like a bag of rocks.

"No I wouldn't," He lied to Mick with a devilish smile. He rolled around to fall on his back, peering up at the guitarist with his prized puppy eyes.

"Oh, I'm not having sex with you until you apologize to Tommy."

That usually would have been enough to send Nikki into a fit again, but Mick had trained him really fucking well. He remained silent on the couch as he carefully thought out an answer.

"Fine, I'll go call him," He grinned.

"Nope. In person. Go get ready." And with that, Mick spun on his heels and headed to the kitchen. Nikki waited until the boner in his pants was only half hard and his pulse had calmed down before racing to the shower.

***

"I'm still mad at him..."

Mick ignored Nikki's remark as he drove them to their run down little studio where Tommy was supposed to be waiting. Nikki had already told him this fact three times since he'd woken up, and Mick had told Nikki three times that he didn't care. Motley Crue was not going to end just because Nikki had neglected to tell Tommy something very, _very_ important.

When Mick didn't give Nikki the satisfaction of a response, the bassist turned to him in the passenger seat. Mick kept his eyes on the road. He waited for Nikki to say something else, but was surprised when the younger man only remained silent. He just stared at Mick, playing the game of patience, until the lack of anger was a little too weird for Mick to bare any longer.

"You should have told him..." It wasn't what Mick had wanted to say, but it just slipped out. Nikki was quiet some more as he rolled the comment around in his head before answering with a shy mumble.

"I know, I just..." He had to suck in a breath. " _What if he got mad? I can't lose him..."_

Mick knew that last whispered part wasn't really meant so much for him, but rather more for Nikki himself. The bassist eventually turned his head to watch the streets of L.A. pass by under the bright sun, clearly not ready to come to terms with the things he hadn't yet prepared to deal with.

"But you'll lose him now if you don't set things right. Both of us will." Mick reached a hand over to place it lovingly on Nikki's knee. The younger man smiled finally, and took his fingers between his own.

"I know."

The rest of the drive was spent in silence, because each of them knew there was a little too much fear teasing both their voices. Nikki could never actually, truly hate Tommy- he was his brother. His best friend. His terror twin. He'd fucking die for Tommy Lee any given day. But Nikki had fucked up big time, and was worried he may have pushed his drummer a little too far over the fence once and for all... _All because his stupid anxious ass was too scared to admit certain things out loud._

What if Tommy didn't forgive him?

He wanted to ask Mick that while he worried his bottom lip between his teeth, but his his throat was suddenly way too tight to speak. So he settled instead for leaning his head against the window, listening to Mick drive.

Mick coasted into a vacant parking spot on the street when they eventually arrived, choosing to ignore the parking meter because he didn't have any change on him. Nikki was practically glued to his side as they made their way inside and downstairs to where Motley Crue always practiced and recorded their music. Mick could see Tommy through the window of the studio as they got closer, sitting at his drum set looking terribly sorry about things that were definitely not his fault. So Mick stopped them before entering, and made Nikki look him in the eyes.

"Hey. You go in and talk to him. I'm gonna wait out here, okay?"

"W-What, why?" Nikki looked like he either wanted to rip his own head off or collapse and cry.

"Because _you_ need to apologize, not me."

"I thought... that... we should tell him together?"

"Nikki..." Mick had to stop for a moment. He needed to take a breath, and Nikki needed to look at him again. "You and Tommy obviously have something a lot stronger than friendship that I sure as hell will never understand. Don't let me get inbetween you two, okay?"

Nikki all but flinched at the pained tone of Mick's voice. But he didn't want to hurt Mick any more than he already had the past two days, so he silently agreed and entered the room with unsteady feet on his own. Mick stood outside the door, out of view from the window. He lingered against the wall, wishing he could at least listen in on their conversation, but trusted that Nikki would think a little more clearly without Mick at his side. Him and Tommy really had something special going on, and Mick would never forgive himself if he was the cause of their end... He'd never seen Nikki turn on Tommy so fast over anything in all the years they'd known each other; Tommy clearly hadn't either, with how distraught the poor kid was.

And Mick prayed for the first time in _years_ that Tommy wouldn't be the one to walk away because of their relationship...

***

Nikki shut the door behind him with a little too much speed before his brain could change his mind and drag Mick inside with him. Mick was right; Nikki needed to do this by himself, because he had fucked up and Tommy didn't deserve to get cornered by his two friends who he believed hated him forever, right after discovering they were _dating_ to top it all off.

"O-Oh, hey-" Tommy jumped at the sudden entrance, and Nikki frowned. He immediately felt every flame of anger still burning in his heart be doused at the sight.

"Hey..." He mumbled back, and looked at the floor. He really didn't like how red Tommy's eyes and cheeks were... he hoped he wasn't crying. He glanced back up at his drummer, and sure enough Tommy's gorgeous doe gaze was watering away. "Fuck, Tommy, I'm sorry-" Nikki breathed as he bolted over to the drum kit Tommy was sitting at and flopped his ass on the floor next to his friend. Tommy closed his eyes and hung his head, itching his scalp as he debated what to do next. Nikki stared up at him as the younger man gnawed on his bottom lip.

"So..." He started as he finally gathered the strength to peer down a Nikki.

"I'm sorry T-Bone. _Fuck, I really screwed up.._." Nikki ran a hand over his face, trying to process such a sad look from his best friend. Tommy quickly wiped a tear away while Nikki's eyes were covered.

"Why, uh... _Why didn't you tell me?"_

The soft whisper was enough to snap Nikki's attention back up at Tommy.

He didn't know the answer.

_Why_ didn't _he tell him?_

"I... uh..." He swallowed, and looked back at his feet. "I guess I was scared you'd hate me..."

"Why would I hate you, dude?"

"Because, I'm fucking in love with a _guy_ , who just so happens to be our _guitarist!"_ Nikki suddenly realized he hadn't ever admitted that fact out loud to anyone, and felt his heart begin to panic. Tommy could sense this, because he was the best friend in the entire fucking _world_ , and immediately jumped down to sit right next to him.

"Fuck, dude, I could never hate you over something like that! Shit, I'm fuckin' jealous of you two if I'm being honest!" He slung an arm around Nikki's hunched shoulders.

"Why?" Nikki looked over at him.

He thought he saw Tommy finch, as if he was about to say something he shouldn't. It made Nikki worry. 

"Because!" Tommy laughed but Nikki knew it was forced, because he'd heard that fake defense mechanism before. "You two are probably really happy together. Clearly you love him a whole fuck load lot..." His voice sounded like he wanted to cry again, so Tommy swallowed and looked at the wall across the room. _"Mick's a lucky guy..."_ He mumbled the last part almost too softly for Nikki to hear. The bassist suddenly realized there was something else going on with his friend, and that cold anxiety swelled in his chest again. 

He wasn't stupid. He could easily guess the real reason Tommy looked like fucking death and was crying again without realizing. It was horrifyingly similar to when his past girlfriend dumped him for another guy...

But he didn't want to know for sure. Not when things were so perfect with Mick...

"Oh, yeah..." Nikki remembered that staring at Tommy wasn't exactly a response, so he forced some words out as he looked at his shoes again. "We're happy... _Fuck_ , I've never been with someone who actually loves me back as much as I love them too, you know?" Talking about how much he loved Mick was enough to put a smile on Nikki's face again. _"He's so awesome, Tommy... Like no one I've ever met."_ He breathed. Tommy slowly removed his arm from Nikki's shoulders and started playing with the laces on his Converse. His wall of wavy hair hid his face from Nikki's view.

"When did all this start?" He asked without looking at the bassist. It sounded like he didn't actually want to know, but needed to.

"Three years ago."

"What!?" He snapped his head up for a second but the look of anger in his eyes was quickly hidden as Tommy hung his head immediately again. Nikki stared at him for a moment before answering, suddenly very unsure of where their conversation was headed.

"Well, like, actually..." He counted on his fingers. "Six, or seven? I met him at a bar in the 70's but I lost his number. Fuck, I never stopped thinking about him though. I thought I'd never find him again but Tommy, if it weren't for you, I never would have!" He put a hand on his friend's boney shoulder, thinking that the praise would cheer him up a little, but...

Tommy just looked really fucking sad, all of the sudden... He sat still next to Nikki, crouched so his face was hidden by his mane, and abandoned the shoe lace he was using to cut the circulation off his fingers with. Nikki felt his own smile die away too.

"That's cool..." Tommy finally whispered. He sniffed once and he was most definently crying again. "I wondered why you acted so weird when he showed up at the door," He forced another chuckle.

Nikki didn't reply. Tommy didn't know what else to say.

So Nikki started moving the hand on Tommy's tense shoulder, running it very slowly over his back. He wasn't exactly the king of comfort, but he knew something was wrong that was beyond the reason Nikki was sitting there even having this conversation in the first place. And as he was feeling the warm heat radiating from Tommy's skin through the soft t-shirt, he also suddenly felt his heart break into a million pieces.

Before he could ask Tommy that very important question he hadn't dared think about, Tommy bolted up and went to sit on one of the chairs across the room. Nikki's arm hovered in the air before finding his lap again.

"My girl broke up with me," The drummer blurted out and wiped his eyes. "So that's why I'm crying. Don't fuckin' worry 'bout it."

But that wasn't the tone someone used to say something like that, so Nikki started worrying.

_Enough of this shit._ Nikki didn't wake up early to go to their studio and jump around the subject. He stood up and stalked over to Tommy until he was standing next to him, and the drummer peered up at him with a little too much fear. Nikki stared at him as he debated how to continue. 

First; he had to comfort his friend.

"Fuck, I'm sorry... Can you try talking to her? It was my fault, not yours..." He wanted to hug Tommy, but held back. The guy looked like he was about to shatter.

"Nah, it's fine. She kinda hated the band anyways, so fuck that... Vince said I can move in with him. I'll just have to deal with his train of women, I guess. Maybe snag myself one along the way." Tommy forced a smile and looked down at the floor again.

"Why don't you just stay with me and Mick?" Nikki tried to not sound as sad as he suddenly felt.

Tommy didn't respond right away for an obvious reason. But Nikki didn't want it to be an obvious reason; he wanted Tommy to feel _safe_ with them again.

Second; he needed to explain why he tried to kill his best friend yesterday.

"Tommy, I'm... I'm sorry for lying to you." Nikki sunk down to kneel on the floor next to Tommy's legs. "I know I should have told you about me and Mick a long time ago. I was just scared how you'd react to me being with a guy, I guess... You mean so much to me, I couldn't risk losing you. And shit, I'm _beyond_ fucking sorry for getting so mad yesterday. I was high, and I saw you kiss Mick, and let's face it. I'm a feral fucking animal who apparently gets a little possessive over shit I love." He wiped at his own dry eyes. Tommy was quiet as he processed the words.

"It's okay. I shouldn't go around kissing everyone anyways. I'm just glad it was you and not some drunk guy and his girlfriend," He chuckled. 

" _Pshh_ , please. You could totally take them on." Nikki patted his knee. Tommy seemed to smile a little more genuinely.

Third; he needed to ask about that _thing_ floating between them. 

"Hey, T-Bone?" He whispered after a few minutes. Tommy peered into Nikki's eyes, silently begging him not to look through the wall he was trying to keep up. Nikki watched him for a second, saying with his gaze _'I can see through it, and I'm going to ask,'_ before continuing with a soft voice. "Are you, uh... okay, with me and Mick?" Not exactly what he meant, but Tommy understood.

"Of course I am dude..." Tommy whispered. He kept staring at Nikki with obvious lies swimming in those brown eyes. Nikki debated calling him out on it.

"You sure?"

"Hell yeah," Tommy placed a shy hand on Nikki's shoulder. "You don't hate me by the way, do you?"

" _Fuck_ no, dude. You know you're my best friend! We're a package deal, even if we are ripping each other's hair out along the way." That made Tommy laugh for real, and he closed his eyes to keep those swelling tears back.

"Good... I don't wanna live a life without you in it, fucker."

"Aw, sounds kinda sappy don't ya think?" Nikki giggled and rested his chin on Tommy's knee.

"You know I'm sappy..." Tommy moved his hand like he wanted to touch Nikki's hair, but ended up placing it back in his lap.

"I love you, you know. Don't gotta worry about me leaving you in the dust." Nikki closed his eyes. He expected Tommy to respond right away, but when the drummer was silent for much too long he opened them again. He turned to look up at Tommy, and saw the younger man staring at the floor with an unfocused gaze. "T-Bone?" Nikki whispered when a tear fell down Tommy's cheek.

"Hmm?" He looked over at Nikki without blinking.

"Why are you crying?"

"I'm not," Tommy seemed rather confused as to why Nikki was frowning up at him and holding his thigh with one hand.

"You are..." 

Tommy quickly wiped his cheek and stared down at his wet fingers with something a little less than shock.

"Oh... I don't know. Guess I'm being a baby. A lot's kinda happened the past day," He wiped his eyes again and hung his head.

"Tommy, you're not a baby... Fuck, dude. I'm sorry. Come here," Nikki stood up and wrapped Tommy in a tight hug before he could slip away. It took him a second to return the embrace, but he eventually did so with weak arms.

_"Would you really let me move in with you guys? I don't wanna impose or any fuckin' shit like that,"_ Tommy sniffed again against Nikki's hair.

"Of course! Come on, I don't want you staying with Vince. And you know Mick won't mind." Nikki pet Tommy's thick hair. The drummer was quiet again, and Nikki hoped he wasn't crying anymore.

_"Nikki?"_ Tommy whispered so softly the bassist wasn't sure he had heard him correctly.

"Yeah?"

Tommy didn't say anything. Nikki wondered if he had even spoken at all... He kept his face buried in Tommy's hair, arms holding him close, until Tommy finally continued after a few minutes.

_"I'm happy for you."_

Nikki knew those words held something dangerously hidden in their meaning, but he decided they'd had enough torment for one day. He gave Tommy a quick squeeze before pulling away. Luckily Tommy's eyes had dried, and the drummer was looking up at him with more confidence.

"Come on, let's go get your shit," Nikki patted him on the shoulder as Tommy cracked a grin and jumped up to follow him.

When Nikki opened the door to see Mick leaning against the wall down the hall a ways, Tommy hesitated at his side. He worried it might be because he was having second thoughts about being around the two now knowing they were a couple, so he placed a reassuring hand on his friend's shoulder. Mick walked over to them, eyes asking unspoken questions.

"Sorry for kissing you!" Tommy blurted out, and Nikki just smiled. "Also Nikki said I can live with you guys, so..."

"Tommy I said it's fine, don't worry," Nikki shook his friend affectionately. The drummer luckily relaxed again as the three of them headed to the door.

"I take it things took a dive down the drain with your girlfriend, then?" Mick smiled.

"Yeah... she said I owe her a new door, but I'm not buying her one," Tommy giggled. The three of them made their way over to the car once they were outside, Tommy climbing in the back seat as Mick started it up.

"I think _Nikki_ should buy her a new one," Mick grumbled.

"Hey!" Nikki whined as the other two laughed. _"Traitor,"_ He growled as Mick started down the road. "Go to Vince's place, we're getting Tommy's shit." Mick silently agreed.

The drive to their singer's apartment was spent in silence with only the radio going, playing music that none of them really liked but also didn't want to change. Nikki stared out the window just like Tommy was, each of them fighting a war in their heads. Tommy may have forgiven him, but... he still felt as if there was something else _wrong_ between them.

He didn't like that. He didnt like when things were wrong, especially if it was between him and Tommy. Mick could obviously sense this as he kept his eyes glued on the road, and Nikki knew he'd get a stern interrogation later if he didn't figure it out soon. Nikki looked through the rearview mirror to see Tommy gazing blankly out at the world as it passed by, and hoped that whatever was bothering his drummer, it wasn't because of Mick. He wasn't sure what he'd do if Tommy was just lying about being cool with it...

Nikki couldn't lose Tommy. But he also couldn't lose Mick.

_And what would happen when Vince finds out?_

Fuck, he didn't want to worry any more. He reached over to gently take Mick's free hand in his, and was grateful when the guitarist returned the hold. He pretended not to see Tommy bite away a frown when the drummer saw it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, thanks for sticking with me this long! Stay tuned for more truths to be told, and new secrets made...


	5. Don't Know What You Got, Till it's Gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (NSFW)  
> A rather unexpected, intimate intermission is had, and truths are told.

**1 week later**

Living with Nikki and Mick hadn't been as awkward and weird as Tommy was expecting it to be.

It was worse.

Much, _much_ worse...

They (to no surprise) only had one bedroom. And while Nikki and Mick had drug his mattress in there against Tommy's assuring will, the drummer found himself sleeping on the couch more often than not. He blamed it on being drunk and accidentally forgetting to go to bed- but Nikki was pretty sure drunk people didn't put their pajamas on, brush their teeth, say goodnight, and cover up with a blanket before, as Tommy described it, _'passing out.'_ Tommy every now and then tried to force himself to his actual bed, which was situated on the floor across the room from his bandmates' queen sized mattress, to avoid any real suspicion and try to appear grateful. Nikki acted like he knew what Tommy was getting at, however, but if he did he luckily let it slide. And if Mick noticed it too, the guitarist hid it well.

It's not that Tommy was mad or anything- because he sure as hell wasn't. Nikki and Mick's clean, organized apartment was a kingdom compared to his and Vince's piece of shit that saw more girls than a club. And having a bed in a bedroom that wasn't overrun with hookers and bugs was definitely an upgrade. He never believed Nikki could even live so... _neat_. It was clearly Mick's doing- but how he had gotten the bassist to follow any sort of rules, well... Tommy was lost there. He never realized what a show Nikki had been putting on before to keep Tommy distracted. It hurt his heart a little, in a weird way... Now that the truth had come out, Nikki was insanely more calm and collected. Tommy wasn't even sure when the last time he'd seen him do a line was.

Partying without Mick and Nikki just wasn't as fun anymore. So Tommy eventually slowed down too. He thought it was because his terror twin was his second half- his 50% that made him one whole delinquent- but... Tommy _missed_ him. It made him, dare he say it: _sad_ , that Nikki didn't want to go fucking buck wild anymore in the heat of their new album dropping.

So many people kept asking him and Vince; _'Hey where's Nikki at?'_ They never cared about Mick, and Tommy hadn't realized that until now as he spurted lies. Vince laughed and always believed Nikki was just slipping away with some chick, while Tommy had to bite his tongue and pretend he didn't know.

The first few days of living with them, Tommy escaped to the clubs to avoid confrontation with the other half of his band. But he still had to go home at some point. And when he did, he saw why Nikki didn't need to take over bars and snort blow anymore.

Tommy always came home to see him and Mick curled up on the couch together, the TV playing something with no sound as Nikki looked between it and Mick's peacefully sleeping face tucked near his chest. He'd smile at Tommy as the drummer would walk through the front door quietly as possible, and then shake Mick awake to go to bed.

Tommy could hardly look at them. They were so... _happy_ , together... He knew Nikki deserved it, and so did Mick. But...

Tommy couldn't help but feel that evil, sinful word he hated to use.

_Jealous_.

Tommy was _jealous_ of them.

Because he'd thought he was in love with Nikki when he'd first met him all those years ago. But Nikki was a hard case to crack, obsessed with only two things in life: bass and pussy. Any courageous flirts Tommy would throw his way went right over his friend's teased up hair, until the drummer eventually stopped trying. _Maybe one day,_ he'd tell himself. _Maybe one day that could change, and he'd finally just kiss him and see what happened._

Girls and drugs helped Tommy forget about it in the meantime as he tried to tame his wild heart. Doing blow between women along side his terror twin was enough to take the edge off that hopeless romantic dream constantly growing in his head. It worked for a long, long time.

But Mick Mars was now a reminder of the thing Tommy wasn't brave enough to chase all those years ago...

So Tommy would take their warmed up spot on the couch after his friends retired for the night like normal, functioning adults, and curl up to stare at the MTV channel until the sun rose.

His coping mechanisms worked for one week, and were rather quite simple; he would just party until he couldn't party anymore, have sex with some chick right before leaving to feel some sort of loved, and then go home to fight tears at the sight of what he couldn't have.

Nikki really looked a wicked kind of peaceful when he was cuddling with Mick. Or writing music with him. Or when they were just drinking on the couch. And especially that one time Tommy entered the apartment to find them laughing as they cooked dinner together, like some kind of normal _family_...

He screwed himself and his genius plan on the eighth night of living with them.

Tommy had been out exceptionally late- _fuck_ , he was so drunk he was even debating going home with Vince to play around with some girls he didn't care about. He just wanted to forget, just like he did every night. _Why the fuck did memories always have to keep coming back!?_ He'd drank and snorted everything he could get his paws on, unaware and uncaring of any effect it had on the people around him that he probably tried to fight. Tommy had lost his shirt and gained a love bite on his ribs in the process of trying to walk the two blocks it took to get home, but he eventually made it in the closest thing to one piece as he could get. He'd opened the door as softly as possible, and saw his two friends wrapped in each other's arms on the couch. They were asleep, they were happy, and they were right where they wanted to be.

Just like every single night.

And just like every single night; one of Tommy's heartstrings broke forever.

_Fuck, why was this so hard..._

He suddenly decided he wanted to be literally anywhere else but right there next to his friends, so Tommy bolted to their room and shut the door behind him. He dove for his mattress and changed into the one pair of pajama pants he'd stolen ages ago, covering up with the blankets and pretending that things were just fine and dandy all around. Nikki and Mick weren't actually living out his dream in the next room over, looking happy as ever in their screwed up unfair world. He couldn't hear them shuffling around, mumbling something sweet in each other's ears. Maybe Mick wasn't even here- maybe it was Tommy out there, wrapped around Nikki and kissing his gorgeous lips.

_Yeah.._. That's how it was in his mind. His fantasy calmed him enough to hang on the edge of sleep, but slumber still never came.

He also pretended that the door didn't just open to let in a pair of footsteps. _Fuck_ , _he was hoping they'd stay out there all night and not go to bed so close to him..._ Hopefully Tommy had just accidentally woken them up and Mick's old man bones decided the couch wasn't comfortable enough, so he was dragging Nikki to bed with him.

_"Tommy?"_ Nikki's voice whispered through the night. He hadn't gone to bed- he was looming over Tommy, staring down at him with a concerned green gaze. The drummer rolled over and opened his eyes to gape up at him. 

_Fuck, he hoped he hadn't said that shit outloud-_

"Why are you crying?"

_Wait, what?_

"W-What?" Tommy's brows furrowed at Nikki's pained look. The bassist suddenly knelt down beside him. His bandmate looked like an unholy ghost, dressed in all black with his wild hair standing on end as he crouched stock still in the shadows.

"You're crying, what happened? I could hear you all the way out there..." Nikki kept his voice low.

Tommy then realized that- yes, he was crying, wasn't he? His face was fucking soaked. His throat hurt as if he'd been gasping out loud for the whole damn world to hear; and apparently he had.

"Uh..." He couldn't tell Nikki. He couldn't ruin the best thing in his friend's entire life. "I guess, I'm-" _Fuck, jealous wasn't a good word to say! He needed something else, something like_ \- "Envious, of you two, I guess?" _Yeah, that sounded a little better._ He may be drunk as a skunk and crying like a baby, but he was rather proud of the big word his brain conjured up.

"Me and Mick? Why?" Nikki still looked lost.

"Yeah. Well, more so just envious of..." 

_Mick_. He wanted to say he was drop dead fucking jealous of Mick Mars, _because he's the one holding you each night._

"How happy you are?" _That didn't sound any better._

Nikki looked at him for a moment. The dim lights pouring in through the blinds from the city outside were the only thing illuminating them enough to see each other. But it was enough for Tommy to see that Nikki knew he was lying- he could see that hurt swarming around in the bassist's eyes, and Tommy's heart lurched out of his chest. He desperately wanted to sit up and kiss his lips- just take that pain away and apologize with all the affection he craved to let out.

But Tommy knew he couldn't do that. Nikki was in love with Mick, and Tommy could never shatter that perfect glass they were dancing on.

"Tommy, tell me the truth... come on, we've been over this. Whatever it is, I can handle it." Nikki still kept his stern voice down.

And Tommy almost obeyed him because of that begging tone he could never deny. But sometimes things that weren't meant to be felt, weren't meant to be said. So he lied again.

_"I just wish I knew what that kind of love felt like,_ " He breathed. His admission wasn't entirely false- he just chose to leave out the very important reason _why_.

Nikki sat as he processed his friends answer. It looked like he might think Tommy was still lying, but thankfully decided to trust him after all for the sake of both their exhausted minds. He bit the inside of his bottom lip before whispering a response Tommy wasn't expecting to hear.

"Look, I don't share Mick, but... If you want, you can lay with us. Doesn't have to be anything serious. You just look like you could use some real love for once..."

Tommy had to take a moment to comprehend the offer.

Mick wasn't exactly the one he wanted to touch, kiss, feel, and hold, but... Nikki would be there too. And if Tommy couldn't tell Nikki how he felt directly, then maybe he could get it off his chest by leaving a few hints. Nikki may not share Mick, but maybe Mick could share Nikki...

"I'd like that..."

Nikki finally smiled, small with tiredness but true and genuine. He nodded once towards the bed before standing up and heading to the door. Tommy was in a haze of sobering shock as he crawled out from under his blanket, scrambled to put a shirt on, and snuck over to Mick and Nikki's bed. He hesitated before actually laying down on the very edge of the mattress, and remained on top of the covers as he stiffly laid on his back to stare up at the ceiling. _The bed was so fucking soft, where the fuck did they find a mattress that nice?_ And it smelled like something wonderful, so unlike his own piece of shit that was stained by fluids to hell and back. Hints of Nikki, mixed with hints of Mick... It swirled in his nose and made Tommy's stomach roll.

_Why the fuck did he agree to this!?_ God, he was such an idiot sometimes. How the fuck was he supposed to get over Nikki by fucking cuddling with him and his boyfriend!? Goddamn his idiocracy- maybe this was a bad idea afterall. Nikki would probably wake up in the morning and forget what happened, and then kick him in the balls and out of the house-

But just before Tommy could bail and change his mind, Mick walked in with a stiff stretch and half smile thrown his way. Tommy curled into a ball on his side facing the guitarist as he watched him carefully lay down on the other side of the bed, throwing the covers over himself with a yawn. Tommy had to bite his tongue as he suddenly thought Mick looked pretty fucking cute, dressed in his sweat pants and t-shirt, with his long black hair that fell to his chest... Nikki was next to enter before Tommy could say anything, and used his last ounce of energy to throw himself in the space between his two bandmates. He thrashed around to work his way under the blankets, and immediately slung an arm and leg around Mick to pull the older man closer. Mick obeyed and scooted over until the two were a tangled mess of arms and legs, and Nikki's face was buried away in the other's dark hair. Mick placed a quick kiss to Nikki's forehead before closing his blue eyes.

Tommy stared at them, and suddenly felt all the anxiety and awkwardness that had been brewing in his chest all week fade away to nearly nothing. He expected to feel insanely out of place and just crawl back to his own bed after they fell asleep, but...

It was so _warm_ , laying next to Nikki. And his heart didn't feel so empty as he watched him and Mick hold each other close. Maybe it was the drunk, hopeless romantic part of his soul talking, but... Tommy felt oddly at home with them. He knew he'd never be able to touch them like they did each other; Nikki had made it clear he wasn't willing to let another come between him and Mick. But maybe just their presence was enough to sooth the loneliness in Tommy's heart. He stared at them and watched as Mick's hand traced meaningless patterns over Nikki's back under his shirt. The bassist would move his head in return to nuzzle his face closer to Mick's neck every so often, until some time later both of them fell still in the night.

Tommy finally yawned, and felt sleep tug at his own mind. He eventually drifted off not long after to images in his head about Nikki and Mick cuddling with whispers of love shared on their lips, and what it must feel like to lay between them.

***

In the following days, Tommy didn't ask to repeat the night. And Nikki didn't offer. Although he didn't exactly need to say it- he'd made it clear when they all woke up the next morning, after Mick had left to go shower, that Tommy was welcome to join them whenever he was feeling left out. He promised Mick didn't mind, and neither did he. Just so long as Tommy didn't try anything with Mick, it was cool with him. Tommy had thanked him multiple times, but chose to sleep in his own bed from then on. His heart wasn't so sad anymore as he would listen to Mick and Nikki kiss each other into slumber. In some weird way he wouldn't question, it actually comforted him.

Tommy eventually stopped staying out so late as well, suddenly very aware of why Nikki didn't need to do drugs so often either. Sure, they'd hit up a strip club after concerts just like always, but the drummer was also now aware of how Nikki didn't kiss women anymore. No matter how many would tug at his belt, he just laughed them off every time. Tommy and Vince were left to steal the show for themselves, but that was fine with him.

He also noticed, and thought it quite cute actually, how Nikki didn't let Mick touch. Not exactly a big deal, since the guitarist didn't ever touch to begin with anyhow. Tommy wanted to ask him if he had always been that way because of Nikki, or if it was just his personality after all.

_So many things he wanted to know,_ as he'd wipe the coke off his nose and observe his two friends. Drugs really brought out his intellectual side, that was for sure... There was something about having a spectacular home and family waiting for you, that really made the streets seem a little colder.

Vince joked around the first time he found out about the three sharing an apartment, and made a comment about how they should start some gay reality show together. Nikki tackled him to the floor, albeit laughing, and Mick just grinned. Tommy, however, only felt panic rise in his chest and spent the following few minutes locked away in the bathroom. _He really fucking hoped his feelings weren't coming off as obvious as they felt..._

So after two weeks passed from that fateful night of Tommy nearly slipping up and throwing their perfect band and imperfect world down the drain, he thought he was in the clear. His love for Nikki had started to subside into the small lapping waves of emotion constantly flooding his heart. It was manageable now.

So maybe he really shouldn't have gotten shit-faced high off his ass one night when Nikki and Mick were flirting with each other at the club. They'd all been drinking because their latest show was the biggest hit yet, but Mick and Nikki eventually tipped over the edge of sobriety and secluded themselves to a corner. Tommy yet again thought it had to be true love they shared, if even when surrounded by the finest strippers in all of L.A., all they wanted was each other... The drummer kept losing his own battle raging in his head as he'd turn to watch them; Mick had a hand up Nikki's shirt, and the bassist was working on a sucking nice new hickey on Mick's neck. _They'd been getting riskier, Tommy also noticed, since he'd moved in with them..._ So he downed beer after beer, soon trying anything handed to him because he _knew_ Nikki and Mick were probably going to have sex that night. And he didn't want to be home for it.

But, Tommy accidentally over did it as per usual, and ended up following them home.

He didn't know why neither of them said anything. They always waited for Tommy to not be home when they fucked. Tommy knew that was Mick's rule, considering that before Motley Crue even started, back when Tommy still thought he had a chance, Nikki didn't give a shit who was around to hear him rail some girl in his room. So why they remained silent as Tommy walked back with them, was unbeknownst to him.

He was too hammered to really care anyways.

Which was also odd, because usually when Tommy was this intoxicated, he'd be racing up the walls- not silently walking home like a civil person with his two best friends. _Maybe because all he could think about was having to listen to Nikki have sex with Mick all night, and why that thought didn't bother him as much as it should have..._

When they got home, Tommy managed to put enough sense together to go sit on the couch and pull the bag of coke from his pocket to distract himself. He started pouring the powder in the shape of a heart, and was pretty sure Nikki saw it because the bassist laughed loudly behind him. Tommy knew he'd usually have laughed with him, but a smile didn't even ghost his lips. As expected, the two lovers went to their room, and Tommy listened to them whisper sweet stupid nothings in each other's ears and shed their clothes.

He could have very easily turned the TV on and drowned them out- they weren't even being loud. But... Tommy didn't. He bent down to inhale his crooked drawing, and imaged what Nikki might look like while he was fucking Mick.

He'd seen his terror twin naked before, but never having sex. The first year he'd known Nikki, when his blooming crush on the older boy blossomed into out of control wild flowers, he would put his ear to the wall and jack off to the sounds of Nikki screwing his girlfriend at the time. He knew it was a little fucked up, but it was nothing a quick line couldn't fix to forget. Tommy would regularly imagine Nikki being the one working his dick to completion- not his hand. 

It had been quite a while since he'd done that...

When the high of his last bit if drugs started to fade, Tommy suddenly noticed that Nikki left the bedroom door open. If he just walked down the hall a little, he could see them... _Was that on purpose? Or were they more drunk than Tommy originally thought?_ Too many questions burning in his head, so he decided to be a problem solver just go find out for himself. Probably a bad idea, but hey. _He was the fucking king of bad ideas._

Tommy kicked his shoes off and stalked down the hall, and within seconds was standing in the doorway of their shared room.

Sure enough, Nikki and Mick were naked, and doing nothing more than making out. Tommy lost a few circuits in his brain as he suddenly felt heat explode in his abdomen at the sight of Nikki's naked body rolling so eagerly overtop Mick like that...

_"Well. Took you long enough,"_ Nikki suddenly hissed. Tommy blinked and noticed the bassist was now grinning up at him through a soft bite on Mick's bottom lip. The guitarist was also looking at him, with those glorious blue eyes and flushed pink cheeks.

Tommy wanted to ask what the fuck Nikki meant, but he already knew.

He stayed in the doorway for another minute as Nikki kissed Mick one more time. It was slow, deep, and so unlike the halfassed shit Tommy did with women...

_"Come here. Watch me,"_ Nikki breathed again. He was staring up at Tommy with wide green eyes full of serious mischief. Tommy obeyed and felt himself practically floating over to the bed, suddenly much more sober.

"Uh, wait, what?" He swallowed as he stopped when his knees hit the edge of the bed frame. Nikki leaned back a little to look up at him with an evil grin.

_"Lay down,"_ He ordered.

Tommy cursed himself for doing so. He dropped down to lay on his back, propped up on his elbows at the very edge of the mattress.

_"You wanna watch me get him ready?"_ Nikki swallowed back the drool spilling over his chin. Tommy looked over at Mick, who appeared as relaxed as ever. He was laying still and sweaty under Nikki's groping hands and rolling hips, panting through his nose. The guitarist shot his worried friend a comforting smile.

_"It's fine,"_ He whispered. So Tommy nodded.

Nikki giggled to himself and sat up, pushing on one of Mick's bent legs to prompt him to roll over. Mick did as asked with an odd groan, and buried his face in the pillows. Tommy thought he seemed a little stiff, but guessed it was just because of that raging erection between his legs and the wait he'd had to endure for Tommy to show up... Nikki giggled deeply as his hands stroked with spread fingers down the back of Mick's bare thighs. He pressed deep into the muscles and inhaled sharply at the feel and sight of the pale skin stretching beneath them.

_"Hes so soft,"_ He whispered at Tommy. The drummer looked away from of Mick's bare ass where it was being kneaded to brave a glance at Nikki's face. His friend's pupils were blown with arousal, his cheeks blushed pink, his lips puffy wet and red... His intense gaze was trying to work out how Tommy was feeling about the situation, but Tommy didn't know exactly how he felt either. The sober half of him screamed _run, run the fuck away and don't complicate things!_ While the coked out half begged to keep watching. _And maybe stick his hand down his pants while he was at it..._ He'd wanted for so long to see Nikki naked and fucking his ass raw, but this would be the closest he could get to that wet dream. Nikki swallowed again with a groaning sound as he looked away from the drummer and back at Mick.

Tommy did the same, choosing to take a breath as he admired their guitarist. Mick's legs were spread out behind him, with Nikki kneeling in between, as his two hands came up to grip the pillow that hid his face. They twisted in fists against the soft sheet as his head suddenly turned towards Tommy, sucking in an aroused breath. His mane of dark hair fell over his gorgeous face, splayed out and falling in his gaping mouth. Tommy really wanted to reach a hand out and brush those tangles strands away so he could get a better look, but quickly remembered Nikki's rule...

Mick swallowed with a soft moan as he stared up at Tommy with that glorious icy gaze. His eyes peered up at his young bandmate, as if asking how he looked so hot and bothered splayed out and begging. It was surely a side of Mick that Tommy never fucking expected to see in his lifetime. The drummer had no idea how the fuck his hips weren't even rocking against the bed yet- Tommy's own crotch was already nursing a full erection that strained in his tight pants.

"Hand me the lotion in the drawer behind you," Nikki commanded as he stared at Tommy again. It took a second for the youngest to realize what he'd said, and slowly turned around to open the bedside table and find the nearly empty bottle of coconut oil. The awkwardness began to set in as he shyly held it out to his friend and Nikki smiled widely as he took it. He opened the cap and poured a generous amount on his fingers, then threw the bottle behind him. It landed on Tommy's mattress across the room.

Tommy had to bite his lip in both anticipation and fear as Nikki went about lubricating his fingers, then spreading Mick open to slide a finger right in. Nikki noticed the twitch of his friend's lip and concerned gaze, and spoke with a caring tone as he massaged Mick's ass with his feee hand.

"Don't freak out, he likes it. This is my favorite part. Well, the whole damn thing is my favorite, but you know what I mean..." Nikki grinned through a bit lip as he looked back down at his work and Mick's clenching thighs. 

Tommy didn't actually know what he meant, so he kept staring to try and understand. It was a little hard for him to look at where Nikki's finger disappeared inside their guitarist, and he squirmed slightly. It looked like it hurt, but also looked like something Tommy really wanted to fucking try...

"Hey, you can leave if you're uncomfortable, T-Bone... Sorry, didn't mean to freak you out," Nikki looked at him concerned again as his hand slowed to a stop.

"U-uh, no, I uh-" Tommy swallowed hard as he tried to subtly adjust his pants. "I'll stay..." He breathed. Nikki grinned.

"Don't be shy about getting yourself off, by the way. I know he's hard to fucking resist," The bassist breathed. He bent down and placed a wet kiss to Mick's lower back. The guitarist remained silent, and Tommy admired his patience. Nikki started moving his hand again, staring down at his finger sliding in and out of Mick as if it was the finest fucking gold in all the land. He eventually snuck in a second digit right in next to it, and Tommy watched as the lube gathered at his entrance. He wondered what it tasted like, or if Nikki knew...

_Fuck_ , he suddenly started sweating and didn't think twice as he discarded his shirt a little too fast. Tommy held back on taking his pants off, however, still hanging on to a thin thread of unease. _What if Nikki and Mick were just drunk, and didn't realize what they were letting Tommy do?_

Nikki moaned deeply as a third finger made it's way in to join the others; Tommy felt his own ass tingle at the idea of Nikki doing that to him... That insanely huge erection hanging between the bassist's legs was fucking hard to not look at, and Tommy found himself staring at it with a blush burning across his cheeks. A small line of precum was hanging from the tip, swaying with his slow rocking motions and threatening to fall to the bed between Mick's legs.

_Did Nikki know how Tommy felt? Was he tormenting him as payback? Or was he still clueless?_

Mick made a soft groan as his body clenched up and his fists pulled at the pillow, biting his lip and closing his eyes as Nikki suddenly moved his hand a certain way. Tommy couldn't tell if it was because it hurt or if it was because it felt really fucking good. Mick was just in control enough for either option to be plausible, but with the way Nikki grinned like a cat and kept going, Tommy decided it probably felt really, really, _really good..._

_Damn, he wished he could know what it felt like..._

As Tommy was rolling the idea around in his overloaded brain of hooking up with a guy later to find out for himself, he hadn't noticed his hand reach out towards Mick. It was just in his nature to be an overly affectionate lover (and the guitarist was looking particularly adorable all of the sudden), so in the midst of his sexual crisis Tommy didn't hesitate to try and brush that dark hair out of Mick's face. He barely made it halfway, however, before Nikki's hand shot out with a threatening growl and gripped his wrist. Tommy jumped, suddenly realizing his mistake, and felt his heart pound in his chest as Nikki glared at him.

The bassist pulled his fingers from Mick's ass as the guitarist looked up at the two with an unreadable expression, and stalked on all fours to get up in Tommy's face. He loomed forward with a feral snarl on his lips, and Tommy couldn't stop himself from leaning back in fear.

_"Don't touch him,"_ Nikki hissed. His lips were only millimeters from Tommy's, but the terrifying exposed teeth between them was enough to burn away any last bit of coke in Tommy's system that might have prompted him to lean forward and give him a kiss.

_"Shit, s-sorry,"_ Tommy choked out. Nikki seemed to remember himself suddenly and the promise he made to Tommy that day in the studio, and softened his expression as he let go. Tommy looked down at Mick as soon as those green eyes returned their attention to Mick's ass again, and Nikki's hand went back to work fingering away. The older man simply gazed up at Tommy through his messy hair, mouth hanging slightly agape as Nikki worked in a fourth finger. His soft blue eyes shone enough comfort in the dim lighting for Tommy to relax again.

As Tommy stared down at him, he wondered how many times he could maybe pretend to accidentally flirt with Mick to get Nikki in his face again...

_"Not even gonna take your pants off, T-Bone?"_ The bassist snapped Tommy from his thoughts.

He bit his lip as he tried to respond. Since when did he- Tommy fucking Lee- ever feel shy about getting naked?

_Maybe since the love of his life started dating their fellow bandmate, and was currently two feet away sticking half a hand up his ass..._

Tommy stayed quiet as he worked his way out of his jeans. The chilly air of the room did little to sooth the aching erection swinging between his legs, so he took a risk and wrapped his hand around it to give himself a few slow pumps. He kicked his pants to the floor just as Mick moaned again.

_"Nikki,"_ He begged. The sound made Tommy's cock twitch against his fingers, along with his stomach. Tommy had to swallow to keep himself silent as Nikki giggled and removed his dripping hand. The bassist looked over to him as he used the same one to start stroking himself, slicking his dick wet before standing up on his hands and knees and lowering his waist to Mick's body. He guided himself to Mick's entrance, and Tommy's insides ignited as he watched it slide in.

Mick groaned long and slow until Tommy didn't know what caused the chills running across his arms- Nikki's monster cock somehow fitting that easily into Mick's hole, or the effect it had on the guitarist. His own hand around his neglected dick started moving a little faster again.

_"Oh, such a good fuckin' boy,"_ Nikki breathed as he sunk down to the hilt. He waited there for a second, wiggled slightly, then pulled back out to the tip. Mick groaned louder than ever with a biting mouthful of pillow to silence himself. _"Let me hear you, baby. I'm sure Tommy wants some of that sweet voice of yours too,"_ Nikki ordered. _"Show him how fucking perfect you are."_ Tommy felt his heart skip too many beats as Nikki held himself up over Mick- the tip of his dick waiting in his entrance for Mick to obey. The guitarist moaned again even louder.

_"Please!"_ Mick cried as he thrashed his head to look towards the wall with a wet gasp. Nikki giggled as he sunk back down, burring himself in Mick as one of his hands moved to take a fistful of that black hair. Tommy pumped himself a little more evenly, choking back his own gasp as Nikki repeated the motion. The fourth time he thrusted all the way back into Mick, he rocked his hips from side to side, reveling in the sounds the guitarist produced as he did so. Mick's hips swayed as they followed along with the movements until his legs started quivering, and the gasp he sucked in was broken. Nikki chuckled as he adjusted his own legs to press flush against Mick's and hold them still.

He started properly fucking him again faster, until Mick's squirming was lost and all his muscles clenched as his back arched against Nikki's chest. Tommy gripped the base of his cock a little too hard because _fuck_ , did he want to come right then and there... But knew he _had_ to wait this out. Nikki was moving like he was only just getting started.

And as it turned out- he was. When the bassist picked up his pace and started humping Mick to a more natural speed, Tommy couldn't tear his eyes away from where his hips met Mick's ass and the older man's thighs jiggled with every motion. Mick started moaning again, begging for more, but Nikki only giggled deep in his throat as he kept things steady. It took another full minute until he stopped suddenly, rolling his hips to bury himself as deep as possible and push Mick's body down into the bed. Tommy had no clue how Mick didn't cry out at the sudden loss of movement. Or at least at the brutal, sexy strength Nikki possessed...

_"I just_ have _to look at him. That face is too pretty to hide, don't you think?"_ Nikki grinned with a sniffed inhale through his nose as he suddenly sat up again, cock now half buried inside. He placed two gentle pats on one of Mick's hips, and Tommy stopped his own hand as he watched Mick move. The guitarist bent his legs and forced himself onto all fours, his long hair hiding his face from Tommy's view, and groaned as Nikki's cock slipped out. He rolled over to lay on his back, scooting to prop his head up on the pillows. Nikki waited patiently as Mick got comfortable again with one leg on each side of him, then leaned forward with an extended arm to brush the hair from his sweaty face. He and Tommy finally had a clear view of Micks flushed cheeks and bright eyes. "See?" Nikki turned his head to look at Tommy as he hovered only inches above Mick's face. "Isn't he fucking gorgeous?"

Tommy swallowed. His dick twitched in his shaking hand. He didn't think he had a crush on Mick; he'd never been attracted to him before. But maybe it was the way Nikki's dripping erection was rubbing against Mick's, or Mick's hooded eyes staring intently up at the bassist, but... he suddenly saw what Nikki was seeing all along. He nodded slowly, staring at Mick's sapphire eyes as the older man kept his gaze on Nikki.

The bassist grinned as he saw Tommy admire his lover, and turned to the guitarist. Tommy felt his heart pound even harder as they stared at each other a moment, sharing a love and connection Tommy would never know. Nikki bent down to kiss his lips as Mick tilted his chin up to meet him halfway. They kissed each other slow and thick, full of the same passion that Nikki had when he was pounding into him. Mick's hand came up to run his fingers through Nikki's dark tangled hair, and Tommy wondered how soft it was.

They finally parted for breath as Nikki buried his face in Mick's neck, earning a soft moan from the guitarist as he tilted his head back to give Nikki more room. Tommy suddenly desperately wanted to lean over and kiss Mick too. Whatever those lips felt like, it had to be good, considering the sounds Nikki was making...

But before he had the chance to make a rash decision and ask Nikki if he could, the bass player took hold of Mick's waist again and effortlessly lifted him up to thrust forward and continue his work. Mick gasped a glorious, shuddered breath of approval that made Tommy's hand start moving again too. Tommy swallowed as he watched Nikki roll his hips to effortlessly push all the way in, pull out to the tip, and thrust back in again. Over and over, he picked up the pace while using one hand to grip Mick's pale thigh and the other to hold the older man's shoulder. Mick grunted and groaned in every pitch as Nikki latched his teeth onto his collar bone and moved faster.

_"Fuck, I love you,"_ Mick whined as his own hands clawed across Nikki's toned back. Tommy had to bite his lip until it bled to avoid crying out with him.

He couldn't remember the last time someone had gotten him so damn aroused beyond a quick fuck. His cock was pounding with his heart beat as his his hand moved faster, a begging orgasm building between his legs. He started panting a little louder, losing his control as a few moans slipped out that blended in with Mick's noises. He watched Nikki kiss Mick's neck, lick up to his jaw, kiss him there, then move down to suck a new hickey right in the notch of the man's throat. 

When Mick threw his head back as the bassist finally reached down to grip his neglected dick, Tommy moaned loudly with him. If either of them had heard it, they didn't react. So he did it again, arching his back as his long legs quivered with his climax growing dangerously close. Mick told Nikki he loved him again, and Nikki finally pulled away from his neck with a wet pop to return the comment. 

_"I love you so much. SO fucking much."_ Nikki moaned the words while his hand pumped Mick. Tommy felt that familiar sharp blade pluck at his dwindling heart strings, knowing those words would never be meant for him. But the pain hurt a little less as he watched the two kiss one more time.

And when Nikki suddenly sped up to rail him a few hard times, Mick came first. He lost his load all over Nikki's hand and the bassist grinned wildly, his laugh at the sight lost with his straining hitched breath. He stared down at the white fluid spilling between his fingers as he rolled them over the tip of Mick's twitching cock, until the older man finally sucked in a breath and began to fall limp beneath him.

When Nikki let go to lift that dripping hand up to his mouth and stick his dirty fingers between his lips to suck them clean, Tommy finished next. He held the base of his dick as he spilled his seed across his thigh, staring down at it with a few grunts as his frame shook with the force of his orgasm. Part of him hoped Nikki or Mick weren't watching him; he didn't look nearly as glorious as they did, coming all over his bare leg and letting it run down to the bed without worshiping it... He didn't know how to make a moment last like they did, or have someone there to enjoy it besides himself. It was a little embarrassing, he thought as his high wore off and his cock began to soften.

But when Nikki finally peaked with a loud moan and lurch forward that made Mick curl in against him, all thoughts of that nagging doubt burned away. Nikki came louder than the other two, clawing his nails down Mick's sides before shooting a hand up to grip another fistful of that obsidian hair. Mick stared up at him with a twisted grin and unfocused eyes as Nikki's hips rode out his orgasm in powerful thrusts. His bent legs had to wrap tightly around Nikki's moving waist to hold them steady, and not slip from the younger man's lap.

But Tommy felt his heart fucking stop when the guitarist looked over at him. Tommy was sitting on the edge of the bed with spread legs- one stained with his own mess- staring back at Mick with with a gaping mouth. The older man kept his head facing Nikki as the the bassist moaned again and slowly came to a halt, but those icy blue eyes never left Tommy's. A cold sweat broke out across the drummer's skin at the intent, knowing look sparkling in his gaze... Nikki finally swallowed to steady his panting breath and release Mick's hair from his iron hold.

The bassist met Mick's eyes as the guitarist finally looked away from Tommy to smirk up at his lover. Nikki stared down at him- cock still buried in his ass- and moved his clean hand to softly stroke Mick's flushed cheek with the back of his knuckles. Mick's eyes fluttered shut as Nikki moved even closer to press their foreheads together, sweaty hair plastered between them.

Tommy didn't miss that sparkle of adoration in the bassist's eyes before he placed a small kiss to Mick's nose.

The gesture was enough to suddenly snap Tommy free of his aroused, hypnotised state of mind, and the drummer immediately felt out of place. It was so simple, yet beyond affectionate and undeniably full of love- it made Tommy's stomach roll with more than the fading excitement as he quickly felt rather intrusive on the moment...

He wanted to say something as he slipped silently off the side of the bed and stood there for a second. But for the first time in Tommy Lee's life- he couldn't think of what to say. _Should he thank them? Compliment them? Maybe ask if they could do it again some time because fuck, call him a freak but he fucking loved watching Nikki Sixx make love to Mick Mars._

His brain couldn't think of something fast enough, so when Nikki's lips slid down to meet Mick's in another perfect kiss, he turned tail and walked out of the room.

He didn't know if they saw him leave, and didn't know if he hoped they did... Tommy bolted to the bathroom and immediately started the shower, jumping in before the water even had time to heat up. The chilled spray across his face and chest cleared his mind enough to give it something else to focus on, besides those repeating images in his head of Nikki kissing Mick with more love than Tommy ever thought a person could have.

_Fuck, whatever they had, it was the real fucking deal._ Tommy wanted to cry again, because for so many years, he'd wasted time wishing that could be _him_ getting kissed like that by Nikki...

The sudden feeling came crashing down that no matter how fast Tommy moved, he was still too late for the one thing that really mattered. And as he cried and hid his tears in the water, he swore to never make such a mistake again.

He knew he probably should have let Mick and Nikki shower first, but fuck; he wasn't thinking clearly. His world was spinning upside down and his aching heart didn't know how to hold on to the railings. Tommy didn't even wash himself the whole ten minutes he spent spitting under the shower stream, debating what the fuck to say to his friends when he got out. He hoped the cold water had taken care of the redness in his face as he stood on shaky legs, cutting the shower off and stepping out.

He tried to hurry in drying off so Mick and Nikki could have their turn already, but his arms refused to move in anything other than slow motion. When he finally did wrap a towel around his waist and open the door as quietly as possible, he was met with a silent house.

_Shit, maybe he'd gotten lucky and they just passed out..._

Tommy tiptoed to the room again so he could find a pair of clothes and run away to Vince's house, do a line, and start to forget all about the night. Upon entering the dark bedroom, however, he was met with Nikki sitting up against the headboard. He was still naked, one leg bent up to give the world a glorious view of his soft cock, and stroking a gentle hand through Mick's hair. Tommy then noticed that Mick was curled up next to him, sound asleep.

Nikki didn't say anything as he looked up to stare at Tommy. Tommy didn't either. He remained planted in the doorway, glancing between the unconscious guitarist and Nikki as he swallowed back the clump in his throat. Nikki's eyes were unreadable as they ate up their view of the drummer, pondering something Tommy couldn't pinpoint.

_"You, uh... okay?"_ Nikki finally whispered.

_"Yeah,"_ Tommy instinctively answered. He gripped a hand tighter on the towel, and when he didn't know what to do with the other one he used it to hold the cloth unnecessarily hard too. Nikki looked like he didn't believe him- a look that was becoming quite popular between them lately.

_"You can sleep in the bed with us,"_ Nikki offered shyly. _"Sorry if we were like,"_ He gestured with his shoulder and head, _"too abrasive, or something..."_

Tommy swallowed again, and felt his stomach begin to stop burning so much.

_"No, it's fine... I just..."_ But yet again those words got lost in his throat.

He couldn't have that important conversation standing naked and damp seven feet away, so he moved across the room to drop the towel and throw his discarded pajama pants on. He walked back to the edge of the bed, meeting Nikki's eyes again as he stood next to him.

_"I think we should talk."_ Words he didn't ever want to say, but knew they needed to. Nikki nodded slowly, and looked back down at Mick as he removed his hand from the guitar player's hair. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and silently stood next to Tommy, gesturing to the door. Together they walked out and closed the door behind them, going to their filthy living room and sitting on opposite ends of the couch. Tommy wished Nikki would have put some clothes on, or at least a pair of underwear, but said nothing as he reminded himself that it was Nikki's apartment after all. _He was still just a guest, as always..._

"Sorry I fuckin' took so long in the shower, I feel bad Mick's gotta sleep all dirty now." That was a little easier for Tommy to say, so he decided to start with that.

"It's fine. I always take care of him," Nikki whispered. It made Tommy's intestines roll again as he imagined Nikki licking every drop of cum off the older man's skin, then petting him to sleep.

"Why, uh," Tommy cleared his throat as he stared down at the floor to continue. "Why did you let me do that?"

_"Because you deserve it,"_ Nikki mumbled immediately. Tommy wondered if he had been expecting this talk. "You always seem so... _sad_ , lately. I don't fuckin' like seeing you upset and feeling unwanted, because that's not true." _Fuck Nikki and his wicked connection to other's emotions_. Tommy wished he was as spiritually attentive as their bassist- he supposed that's why Nikki was such a good fucking songwriter. "Look," Nikki suddenly sighed and turned on the couch to face his drummer. "I can't give you Mick, but... I can let you do shit like that every now and then. Maybe I'll let you kiss him eventually, I don't know. Just, I can't _stand_ seeing you so depressed. I don't hate you, I never will, and I'm sorry if you love Mick too but he's with me..." Nikki looked like it was his turn to cry now. It broke Tommy's fucking heart.

"I... I don't love Mick though. Not like _that_ , I mean..." He whispered as he gazed into Nikki's eyes. The bassist furrowed his brows slightly, and Tommy suddenly realized that Nikki had it all fucking wrong.

"Then, why..." Nikki trailed off in confusion.

Tommy held his breath before forcing out that really important thing he needed to say now more than ever.

"I loved _you_." He breathed. Nikki didn't move. Tommy wondered if he'd even heard him, or if the pounding heartbeat in his ears was too loud to speak over. Nikki blinked once, turned back to face straight ahead, and began picking at his fingernails with a hung head. Tommy silently begged that whatever god his mother had tried teaching him about would show some mercy and not shatter everything he ever loved...

"Oh..." Nikki breathed just as softly. Tommy wished he really hadn't seen those swelling tears threatening to spill from his green eyes...

_"I'm sorry-"_ Tommy's voice cracked. He looked away from his friend, full of shame, and gripped a fistful of his pants. "I'm fuckin' sorry dude, I know what you have with Mick is more precious than anything and _fuck_ , I swear I'll stop feeling this way eventually! I promise I'd never do anything to break you guys up!" He sobbed.

He jumped when two strong arms suddenly wrapped around his torso, and Nikkis chin rested upon his shoulder.

_"It's okay Tommy,"_ He breathed into the drummer's hair. Tommy cried harder, digging the heels of his hands into his soaked eyes.

_"I'm so fucking sorry,"_ Tommy cried out louder, and curled in on himself against Nikki's warm frame. _"I tried so damn hard to ignore it, I swear I did!"_

Nikki only hushed him with quiet breaths, running a hand through his thick brown hair as he held Tommy tighter.

_"It's okay Tommy, I'm not mad..."_ Tommy could hear him crying too.

_Fuck, he just fucked everything up... that's all he ever did. Tommy Lee: unwanted king of mistakes._

Tommy bit his lip, and thought about taking a bus tomorrow morning out to the desert and dumping himself off forever.

_"It's not okay! You love Mick so much, I can't get between you guys!"_ Tommy frantically wiped as his face. _"Fuck, maybe I should move in with Vince again-"_

_"No, don't fucking go!"_ Nikki suddenly tightened his grip around Tommy as if he feared the drummer would run out the front door that very minute. The constricting embrace made it hard for Tommy to breathe, but instead of pulling away he remained wrapped in Nikki's arms. The strength surrounding him and weakened air supply finally started to clear the panicked fog filling his head as he began to calm down. _"Tommy, I love you like a motherfucking brother, don't leave me..."_ It was Nikki's turn to start sobbing.

Tommy remembered, as he let out his last crying sigh, that Nikki had never really known what family felt like. Mick was the first person he'd ever seen Nikki care wholeheartedly about, and have that same loyal affection actually returned. So many times his friend had been abandoned and kicked to the curb... And there Tommy was, fearing Nikki would disown him because Tommy fucking _loved_ him too much.

He sucked in the deepest breath he could manage, and finally wrapped his own arms around Nikki. He rubbed a hand up and down his back, closing his eyes against the messy mane of black hair pressed against his face.

Together they sat, until the tears shared between them had long since dried. Tommy wished Mick would wake up and prompt Nikki to come back to bed, so they could have a solution to their tangled, emotional night. But the bedroom remained silent.

It wasn't until Tommy noticed that the clock currently read _3:00 AM_ , and their arms had slackened their hold on each other, that he finally felt his brain tug at the idea of sleep. He nuzzled his face against Nikki's neck in an affectionate gesture, hoping it read how sorry he was. Nikki was the first to pull away, and look into Tommy's saddened gaze.

He slowly brought a hand up to place it against Tommy's cheek- his palm just hovering above his friend's warm skin as his fingertips felt the skin beneath his tear-stained eyes. Tommy stared up at him with those gorgeous doe eyes as Nikki glanced down at his lips.

Tommy thought that Nikki might lean forward and kiss him. He parted his lips, ever so slightly. 

But Nikki simply met his gaze again, and blinked once. They didn't speak as his hand fell from Tommy's cheek to rest in his lap. They stared at each other a moment, and Tommy swore he could hear his last heartstring snap inside his chest.

Nikki dropped his head slightly as he took Tommy's limp hand in his. The younger man was too scared to hold it back as the view of it began to blur with new tears. Nikki gingerly rubbed his thumb across Tommy's dry knuckles, and his mouth twisted in a frown.

_"I love you, Tommy."_

Tommy knew it wasn't the kind of love he'd always craved.

But that was okay. _He would be okay._

He should have said he loved Nikki back, but they both knew he wasn't ready for those words to hold the same meaning as Nikki's yet. So Tommy started building up his walls again, while his heart tried to figure out how to properly beat with a few missing pieces.

"By the way," Tommy sucked in a breath as he began the process to accept the moment for what it was, ready to change the subject. Nikki looked up at him with a little hope in his eyes at Tommy's small, forced smile. _"Mick's pretty hot when he comes,"_ He whispered. Nikki giggled and playfully shoved his shoulder, earning a painful chuckle from the drummer as well.

"I fucking _know_ , right! _But don't get any ideas, fucker,"_ He let go of Tommy's hand. When his laughing subsided, Nikki leaned forward and hugged him properly. _"You wanna come to bed with us?"_ Nikki offered for a second time, still sounding unsure of Tommy's emotional state. Tommy knew he meant the words, because Nikki wasn't one to say things just because they sounded polite. So he debated it for a moment.

" _You'd be... okay with that?"_ He whispered. Nikki pulled back to look him in the eyes again.

_"Yes,"_ He said.

Tommy paused, then nodded. Nikki smirked his famous toothy grin, and stood up from the couch. Tommy followed suit.

"And maybe, _maybe_ ," Nikki glanced at him. "If you're lucky, I _might_ let you suck me off one time... If Mick allows it. And if you still want to." Nikki turned to walk toward the bedroom.

Tommy grinned at the idea.

"Wait," he started before Nikki could reach the door. The bassist turned back to look at him. "Will Mick, uh... be mad, if you tell him?" He worried his bottom lip between his teeth. Nikki knew it wasn't the blowjob he was talking about.

"Probably not. I will tell him, though. But don't worry about it; he's not one to want to break up just because of some shit like that," Nikki grinned and leaned against the wall. He idly stared down at his soft cock, and Tommy could tell he was remembering something rather beautiful. "Trust me, I've put him through some wild shit before," He giggled. Tommy waited a moment before walking closer to him. He looked down between Nikki's legs too, and wondered what sucking him off would taste like if ever really did get the chance. _"Come on, I'm tired,"_ Nikki finally broke the silence and opened the bedroom door, heading to the bed and carefully crawling in as not to wake Mick.

He loomed over the guitarist with a hand on each side of Mick's head, as he bent down to softly kiss his cheek. Tommy waited until he was comfortably spooning the older man with tangled arms and legs, before slipping into bed behind them. He made sure to keep as much space between them as possible, although it was rather difficult since Nikki and Mick were right in the middle of the mattress.

But when an unexpected grin Tommy couldn't stop slowly crawled it's way up his lips, he settled for rolling over to stare at the wall.

He remained awake long through the night as he felt Nikki fall asleep behind him- imagining a day when Mick could hold one hand, and Tommy could maybe hold the other.


	6. Faithfully

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter to go after this.... probably. Thanks for waiting for me <3

_Highway run_   
_Into the midnight sun_   
_Wheels go round and round_   
_You're on my mind_   
_Restless hearts_   
_Sleep alone tonight_   
_Sending all my love, along the wire._

Journey poured their heart out on Tommy's car stereo as he drove into the sun.

It was setting over L.A., and he was headed from the mountains to the tiny home he'd found himself a part of. Nikki and Mick were expecting him for dinner, and he was trying his best to not be late. Traffic was nearly nonexistent as the yellow light of California's sunset painted the sky. Just five more minutes and he'd be downtown, and two minutes after that he would be home.

_Home_. Such a royal word used at the bottom of the City of Angels.

He turned up his radio, in need of some advice.

_They say that the road ain't no place to start a family_   
_Right down the line it's been you and me_   
_And lovin' a music man ain't always what it's supposed to be_   
_Oh, girl, you stand by me_   
_I'm forever yours, faithfully_

Sometimes the truth hurt; she had claws you couldn't dodge forever. But as Tommy always told himself, taught well by his mother: if something could be destroyed by truth, then it deserves to be.

He didn't want his band and friendships to be destroyed, but he couldn't lie to them any longer. The night he sat alone with Nikki on the couch, after the most intimate encounter of his short young life, he had whispered the truth on quivering lips. He waited with silent tears for her to do her damage, and take away the only great he'd ever known.

But Nikki didn't hate him; he held Tommy close, and took him back to bed under the light of full moon.

_Nikki_. His family. His best friend. The love of his life he could never quite catch. He was the wind in the firey sky that carried Tommy far away from any Hell that ever threatened them, yet always blew right through his fingers.

Tommy listened to his radio sing about needing smiles on a road to nowhere as he finally parked out front. He looked up at the apartment he shared with his two best friends, and felt his heart sing along.

_Wondering where I am_   
_Lost without you._

***

"Just five more minutes, I _swear!"_ Nikki let out a rather exasperated sigh as he dropped the large pot onto their cracked kitchen counter. He had decided to be a good boyfriend and great friend that night, and set out to make spaghetti for dinner. Or, at least, he _tried_ to make spaghetti.

Really, that _was_ the goal. In all honesty, who the hell could possibly fuck up making noodles and heating some sauce?

Apparently Nikki Sixx could, as he snarled at the stove and turned off the flames. Their flickering blue light had taunted him _enough_ for one night. His rage was boiling over much like his water did, and he swore if he had to put out a small fire or clean up starch foam _one_ more time he would throw the whole fucking thing out the goddamn window.

But _no_ , he told himself. _He could do this._ He was almost done, and Mick and Tommy would be happy because of _him_. He had been a dick at band practice today, and yelled at Vince _way_ too harshly. That made Tommy sad, and when Tommy got sad Mick got upset.

So all Nikki wanted was to fix things at home with a good dinner. Like any normal, _functioning_ family would do.

"Hun, you don't just _add_ five minutes onto spaghetti. It's sorta, _done when its done,"_ Mick chuckled softly from the couch. His eyes were glued to the TV because about halfway through Nikki's determined journey, he had told the guitarist to just _not_ look over into the kitchen. Nikki just got _pressured_ if he was being watched, and that made things get messy, _okay?_

Mick had kindly told him about three times, _'you have to keep stirring it, baby boy,_ ' and Nikki had brushed him off saying something like _'yeah I fucking know!'_

Even though he didn't. He _didn't_ know you had to stir the fucking noodles every two minutes, and he most certainly didn't know they were _'done when they were done.'_

_When the fuck was that!? How did he know they were done? Fuck, he was such a dumbass!_

He let out a feral growl again as he laid out three bowls, and dunked his ladle into the steaming water. All he brought up was a soggy pile of white noodles that broke apart on impact.

_Fuck. Did they need more time?_ Nikki stared at the soggy mess dropped into the bowl, wondering if spaghetti just maybe hardened up again when it cooled off... _He hoped so._

Five minutes indeed passed before the front door open and Tommy announced his presence.

"What's up baby!" He laughed loudly, kicking his shoes off by the door.

"Hey drummer. How's Barbie?" Mick chuckled at him.

"Still mad at Nikki, but said he'll show up tomorrow," Tommy winked.

Nikki quickly scooped the reamining mess of pasta from the water as he listened to his friends talk and evened out three portions, then looked around for the sauce-

Oh, _fuck him!_ It was still sealed in the jar. _Still room temperature_. He hastily grabbed the tongs from the drawer and dunked it into the hot water, giving it five seconds to warm as Tommy answered Mick, before pulling it out and opening it up. The metal almost burned his hand but he ignored the dull pain, covering the three bowls until his pathetic noodles were hidden from view.

"Done!" He laughed loudly as the threw the jar into the overflowing trash. He set the bowls onto the table as Tommy bounded in, followed by Mick. "Dinner is _served_ , you nasty fucks!" He sat down, watching half his band with eager eyes as they joined him.

"Fuck yes, I _love_ spaghetti! Nice one Sixxster," Tommy wiggled with too much energy as he grabbed a fork and dug in. Only one noodle stayed intact as he raised the mound of mostly sauce to his mouth, and Nikki felt his face heat up. _Okay... so maybe they didn't magically form back together. Shit._

"Whoa," Tommy giggled around his bite, but winced right after. Nikki bit his lip, taking his own huge mouthful to try and prove he had at least done a _semi-decent_ job.

_Oh. That was just awful..._ He watched Tommy chew slowly- _as if he even had to_ \- and then looked at Mick. The guitarist was working around his own careful mouthful with a thoughtful expression, but managed to swallow with a smile.

_"Interesting,"_ He said sweetly. He cautiously dug in for more. Nikki stared at him with sharp eyes, before swallowing the toxic mess of mush on his tongue.

"Don't lie guys, _fuck_ , I'm a fucking _idiot!_ Who the fuck can't fucking make _spaghetti_ , _God DAMN it!"_ He dropped his fork and whimpered a frustrated sigh.

"Nah, it's uh, its okay! Not... _tooooo_ _bad,_ " Tommy cleared his throat as he forced down his food, digging around his bowl with the fork. Nikki could hear the sorry excuse of food inside it clump together, looking a lot like bleeding mashed potatoes. _"Sauce is pretty good,"_ He mumbled with a shrug.

"Fuck this. _I suck."_ Nikki rolled his eyes. He played around in the heap of sauce with his fork.

"Hey, it's okay," Mick chucked. The soft sound of comfort made Nikki's heart flutter, and he hid his blushing face behind a messy wall of hair. Mick stood up and dumped his food into the trash, where Nikki thought it _definitely_ belonged, and walked to the stove. "Come on," He winked at Nikki as the bassist watched him. Nikki tossed his own failure onto the pile of garbage with a disappointed growl. "Hey, we got one box left. Let's make it together, kay?" Mick patted the bass player's hip.

_"I can't cook,"_ Nikki moaned.

"We'll do it together," Mick chuckled. "T-Bone, get the spaghetti out of the cabinet." He nodded towards their nearly empty pantry as Tommy jumped up and did as told with a wide grin.

Mick went about turning the flames on again and discarding the old water, refiling the pot with much less than Nikki had first used. The bassist couldn't help a small smile forming on his lips as the three of them danced about the kitchen, Mick taking the lead as he gently told the other two what to do. Nikki stood close to him as he watched Mick confidently stir the noodles in the bubbling water, leaning up to kiss the younger man's cheek after each time. It made Nikki laugh quietly when he did so, silently thanking Mick with another sweet peck for being such a trooper through his clueless attempts.

Tommy had been put in charge of warming up the new sauce on the stove and cooking a loaf of garlic bread in the oven. Mick would stir the noodles, Nikki helped taste test them along the way, and then they would scoot aside for Tommy to tend to his sauce. Even the drummer seemed to know much more about cooking than Nikki did, and the bassist felt a pang of insecurity inside his chest at the sight.

It was easily pushed away, however, when Mick would cup his face and bring him in for a deep kiss when Tommy wasn't looking. Nikki grinned against the older man's lips, nipping the bottom one just before pulling away. His world and all it's chaos seemed to stop when Mick kissed him. It was the greatest feeling in the world, and Nikki only wished he could somehow thank the older man for all his unconditional love.

He watched his best friend and his love cook dinner together, under the orange light of the fading sun. They spoke softly of things Nikki wasn't listening to, smiling and laughing as Mick drained the water and Tommy watched with excited eyes.

He loved them. _So much._

In no time at all, the three were sat yet again at the table with fresh bowls of pasta and the best fucking bread Nikki had ever tasted.

"Holy FUCK we kicked ass, _mmmph!"_ Tommy moaned loudly into a huge bite of bread, nodding his head in approval. "We gotta do this shit more often," He spoke around his chewing. Nikki smirked at him, watching his friend eat. A bud of strong affection blossomed and twirled in the wind of his chest as he did so- something about seeing Tommy so happy, all because of something he and Mick did together, made the bassist feel an odd amount of love in his heart. Nikki sighed an amused smirk, and finally dug in as Mick laughed at their drummer.

_It was the best dinner he'd ever had._

***

"Well fuck, _there_ you bozos are! Since when am I the fuckin' early one, huh?" Vince raised a brow when the rest of Motley Crue strutted into the studio. Mick trailed behind the younger two, although it was pretty hard to keep up with Tommy as the kid sped over and cleared his drum kit in one leap. He was acting more joyous than Nikki had seen since he'd moved in with him and Mick, and it made him happy too. He laughed quietly as he walked over to Vince.

"Hey," He said shortly. He couldn't stop a grin as he took his friend's shoulder. Vince stared up at him expectantly. _"Sorry I called you a stripper yesterday,"_ Nikki apologized.

"Well, you called me much more than that," Vince stated calmly with a raised brow.

_"And_ a Barbie-wanna-be. And a whore. And a bitch." Nikki sighed.

"Yeah, whatever," Vince couldn't help himself from laughing softly, patting Nikki's hand as he walked to the mic. "I'll forgive you _once_ , Sixx, but six strikes and you're _out."_

"What? I'm the one in charge, dumbass." Nikki's insult held no true malace as he laughed at the singer.

"Yeah you _wish,"_ Vince huffed. "Mick sure does have a hand up your ass, huh?"

Mick looked at Nikki as soon as Vince turned around. Nikki looked back at Mick. They bothed looked at Tommy, who shook his head with a terrified shrug. The three shared a mutual panic until Mick sighed.

"That's gross, Vince, shut up."

"What?" Vince laughed loudly. "It's like you two are dating! Always off _alone_ together at home. You guys are weird."

"Keeps me off the bad drugs, asshole." It wasn't even a lie from Nikki as the bassist rolled his eyes. He picked up his bass, hoping to get things started and off the topic of him and Mick.

_He still had to tell Vince._ But things were so _good_ right now- _what if he didn't accept them?_ Nikki gazed at his four strings while he plucked them silently. _What if Vince couldn't handle him and Mick together? What if he felt betrayed, because the three of them were happy living together and he was left out?_ Nikki worried his bottom lip between his teeth as Mick began his warm up riff, followed by Tommy's loud drumming.

He didn't see Vince eyeing him from across the room.

***

_"Hey. Can I ask you something?"_

Nikki was latched onto Mick as they lay together in bed. The moon was hidden behind a wall of clouds that shrouded the night sky and all of its beautiful stars. Tommy was sound asleep across the room on his new mattress the three of them had pitched in to buy recently. His gentle snoring was the only sound besides distant thunder on the horizon drawing near.

_"Of course,"_ Mick breathed above his head. He cradled Nikki in his arms, petting his hair with a loving hand. Nikki had to swallow a thick breath before he could speak again.

_"Would you still love me if the band ever broke up?"_ The words hurt. They were sharp, and cut his heart on the way out of his throat.

_"What? Of **course** I would, Nikki."_ Mick held him tighter, sensing the great deal of pain Nikki was drowning under. _"Why you askin' baby?"_

_"Vince. We haven't told him yet..."_ It was all Nikki needed to mumble against Mick's chest. The guitarist sucked in a deep, slow breath, rising Nikki's head along with his chest. He pet the younger man for another moment to sooth him into relaxing more, stroking through his messy hair and down his warm back

_"It'll be okay,"_ Mick whispered. He was of course unsure if his words were really true, but Nikki needed to hear them. He kissed the top of the bass player's head, keeping his lips buried in his hair as Nikki relaxed a little more.

_"Okay,"_ He whimpered. He gripped Mick even tighter, until his spine began to ache.

_"I'll always be right here with you, little demon. So will Tommy. I can't see Vince leaving because of us, especially when he finds out its been working just fine for years now."_ Mick continued to whisper sweet soothing words against Nikki's hair, until the bassist finally drifted off. The rain was beginning to fall outside, and Mick gazed through the window at the drops kissing the glass.

He soon fell asleep not long after to the sounds of heavy rain, and Nikki's steady heartbeat.

***

Just two mornings after that night found Mick alone with Tommy in the car. Luckily it wasn't to have a hefty conversation full of feelings and truths spilled- they were just headed to the music store to pick up a new amp for Nikki's bass. Said bassist had been ordered by his ever so caring lover to stay home, because he was starting to run a fever and fighting a wicked clogged nose.

"Guess what," Tommy suddenly spoke as Mick turned onto another street.

"What?" Mick kept his sunglass-clad eyes on the road.

"Well... I uh, heard Nikki all worried the other night. Askin' about if you'd leave him if the band broke up..." Tommy looked out of the window, suddenly not so confident anymore. He was bluncing a foot, clearly anxious.

"And?" Mick swallowed.

"Well, I didn't know he was stressing so damn hard. I kinda wanna do something that's gonna remind him we're all still a family beyond the music, maybe with Vince too, you know?"

Mick wasn't sure what that could exactly entail, but he agreed anyways. He was worried about Nikki too, hoping the poor guy hadn't stressed himself sick over the thought of having to tell Vince.

"Like, what if we took a trip to Disney!"

"T-Bone we're _grown men_. Well, I don't know about you actually," Mick laughed.

"So! Disney's fun... Lots of adults go," Tommy shrugged with a smile. Mick held his breath as he thought about it.

There was no _way_ his back could handle that shit. But just like Vince didn't know the secret the three of them were keeping, the other three didn't know a secret _Mick_ was keeping. His back had gotten worse recently, but he was putting off a trip to the doctor because Nikki would probably find out and be _terrified_ of whatever Mick was trying to hide. He scrambled for another excuse, trying to turn Tommy off the idea.

"Come on, can you _imagine_ Nikki on one of those rollercoasters? He doesn't even watch cartoons, he'd probably want to punch poor Mickey Mouse in the nose." Mick forced a chuckle. They were almost to the store, and he didn't want this plan of the drummer's brewing inside his hyper head. Tommy unfortunately thought that was kind of funny, and laughed about it.

"Dude! That would be fucking _awesome!"_

_Fuck._ Mick was quiet the rest of the short ride as Tommy daydreamed about this bad idea, and said nothing until they were parked and headed inside the store.

"I don't know, Tommy. I can't see Nikki enjoying so much... _joy."_

"Aw, trust me, I _know_ him. He would have fun. His mom obviously never took him so maybe we can make it up to him!"

"Well, _you're too kind,"_ Mick huffed. It came out much more sarcastic than he wanted it to, but he couldn't find the will to apologize for his hostile tone.

They walked over to the amps, but Tommy's energy slowly died on the way.

_"Mick?"_ He asked quietly. _Fuck, now he'd gone and hurt the poor guy._ Guilt stabbed Mick's chest, along with growing panic. Mick didn't look at him. "How's come you don't want to go? We don't have to, it was just an idea... Didn't you take your kids? I thought there was just like, something for everyone, you know?" The hurt Tommy was trying to hide made Mick's heart break.

"Kid..." He sucked in a breath, quickly remembering Tommy didn't like that nickname. _Especially after he'd watched him and Nikki fuck each other._ "T-Bone, I just hate that stuff. You three should go, you'd have fun." He idly examined the price tag on an amp.

"Oh..." Tommy was quiet a minute. "How come?"

"What?"

"Hows come you hate that stuff? Does it remind you of your kids? Sorry if I like, fuckin' made you sad, I didn't mean to." Tommy moved closer, silenlty asking to hug the guitarist. Mick ignored him. _"Pleaaase_ will you go?" Mick remained silent. "You know Nikki's just _dying_ for a picture of you two in front of that castle to put on the fridge!" Tommy leaned in, batting his eyelashes at Mick. Mick rolled his own eyes, finally looking at the drummer. "I'll buy you a new guitar if you go!"

"With what money?" Mick laughed at that.

"Trust me, this new album is gonna fuckin' to sell _big time._ That's why we gotta go to Disney now, before we're famous and followed around by paparazzi and shit!"

Mick opened his mouth to tell Tommy he was crazy, but no words came out. The drummer was... _kinda right._

He wondered if he could suffer through one day. _Just one day, maybe two rides to not look suspicious._ _He could do that, right? He could just get tipsy beforehand, or maybe buy some pain meds to keep in his pocket..._

"Okay, _fine..."_

"Yes! Fuck yeah!" Tommy jumped up and walked in circles around Mick as the guitarist headed to the counter to buy the stupid amp. _"Besiiiiiides,_ it's just if those other two agree! You might be right and Nikki might say no!"

Mick really hoped he would say no.

Unfortunately, his look of despair was coming off a little obvious to Tommy as he watched Mick pay. They follow the employees out to car to load the amp in the back, and when they were finally on the way home Tommy spoke.

"You okay with it for real? You seem kinda scared- _fuck,_ if you hate rollercoasters I'm sorry!"

_"No, idiot._ I mean _yeah_ I hate them but... Hey, what else brings a family together better than a trip to fuckin' Dinsey?" Mick meant for his tone to be kindhearted, but it came out more harsh yet again. It made Tommy frown.

"Shit," He sighed. "Why uh... why do I feel like you're hiding something? I've seen you do things you hate and you've never acted like this..." Tommy was obviously nervous, and Mick felt his heart pang with guilt. The kid clearly didn't want to start a fight or anything- his voice was quivering nearly with fear as he looked at Mick.

_Enough_.

Mick pulled over into a gas station, and parked. Tommy raised a brow, growing even more concerned.

"Mick?" He asked softly. Mick was staring at the wheel. Nothing but the sound of the engine filled the space between them. Tommy grew more concerned with each silent passing second. He looked around outside, then back at Mick.

The look in Mick's blue eyes spoke something dangerous- it was _sad_. And Mick Mars was _never_ fucking sad.

_"Can I tell you something?"_ Mick finally whispered. Tommy had only ever heard him speak so softly to Nikki when they were falling asleep.

_"Of course."_

"I... _Look,"_ Mick sucked in a shaking breath. He suddenly got out of the car and opened the back door, reaching under the seat with a grunt to dig around for something. Tommy turned to watch him with concern and growing worry. Mick finally pulled out a manilla envelope, and shut the back door to return to the driver's seat. He locked them back in the car once again, and stared at the folder. Tommy could see a decent amount of paperwork within it, and wondered what it could be. He calmly waited for Mick to explain.

_"I kept this in here so Nikki could never find it,"_ He whispered.

"What's that?" Tommy spoke even softer. Mick sighed again and opened it slowly- as if he was fearful of what may be hidden inside.

Tommy wasn't expecting to see an x-ray of something that looked like a spine.

_"My back,"_ Mick mumbled. He carefully took out the glossy picture, and then another one beneath it. "And my hips." He held the pictures in each hand. The tone his voice took was one Tommy had never heard before- it was pained, scared, _hurt_ , and Tommy never wanted to hear it again. The drummer was beyond confused as he watched Mick handle the photos with a terrifying amount of care.

"Uh, why?" Tommy cleared his throat. Mick didn't answer for a moment. He stared at the x-rays, lost in a memory Tommy was very fearful to discover. Mick turned the car off, and handed the first picture to Tommy.

"It's an x-ray of me from about ten years ago."

"Oh, uh..." Tommy was lost as he slowly took the picture and looked at it. It was a little blury, but very obviously a spine. He was no doctor, barely even a high school graduate, so if there was something he was supposed to be seeing, he couldn't tell. "Why do you have this? What's wrong with it?"

_"Everything."_ Mick's voice cracked, and Tommy snapped his eyes over to the older man.

Mick was... _crying_. He quickly wiped away a few silent tears, and forced a wet sigh.

_"I have AS,"_ He said dreadfully. He gripped the x-ray of his pelvis a little tighter between his fingers. "It's a fucking bone disease, and _no one else_ knows. Only my parents, and my aunt. She took me when I was nineteen because I kept having back pain, _worse than anything I'd ever felt,_ and I couldn't afford a doctor myself. I got these taken that day, and found out I'm fucking rotting from the inside out."

Tommy listened to Mick ramble on with something close to fury in his weak voice. The drummer's heart was racing, and he looked back down to the paper. He couldn't watch Mick cry... _it was the worst thing he'd probably ever seen._

"See that?" Mick whispered, and suddenly pointed carefully to the bottom of the spine on the x-ray Tommy held. _"This white shit?"_

"Uh, yeah?" Tommy whimpered. He tried to remain strong for Mick, but when a tear fell from the guitar player's eyes and onto the center console, he felt his own eyes tear up. It was hard to see where Mick was pointing beyond the blurriness, so he blinked them away and let them fall down his cheeks.

_"It's not supposed to look like that,"_ Mick breathed. "It's all overgrown cartilage. It just... fills in the spaces between vertebrae, until there's no space left.. _It fuses your whole damn spine together until there's nothing left for it to eat up."_ Mick was speaking calmly now, forcing back his emotions until his tone was dangerously placid. Tommy knew he was scared; he looked over at Mick's teary eyes again, watching them stare at the paper as if it was an old nightmare come true. He had so obviously looked at these pictures a thousand times, probably memorizing them by now, and if it didn't get any easier after this long... It was definitely as bad as Mick described it.

_"Fuck,_ " Tommy whimpered. He watched as Mick held up the picture of his hips.

"It started right here, in my hips. I was in so much pain I couldn't sleep, couldn't move right, could barely pick anything up... I thought I was just stressed because I hated my life, but... _fuck..."_ He trailed off. He sat silently, looking down at his terrible fate. Tommy decided to take over for him, and ask his burning questions.

"You... You said no one else knows? Not even Nikki?"

_"No..._ " Mick breathed. He forced a wavering smile, gazing deeply at the shiny paper. _"I never found a time to tell him... I was terrified he'd kick me out of the band."_

"You know he'd never do that," Tommy cooed gentley. "So... tell me about this, you said it like, grows on your fuckin' spine?" Tommy shifted to face Mick the best he could.

"Yeah. It's uh... basically nasty arthritis for your spine," Mick sighed. He pulled out a packet of paper from the folder. "I printed off as much as I could find back then, but apparently it was still pretty rare in the 70s. Only a few articles and books I got my hands on... I've read everything I've found, and they all say the same shit. It only gets worse and there's no cure. I might end up in a wheelchair, I might not. It might take over my hands, it might not. All _bullshit_ , stupid fucking theories because no one fucking knows anything about this shit!" Mick sighed heavily, and flipped through the packet. Tommy got glances of spine diagrams, endless paragraphs, and before and after pictures that made his stomach lurch.

"Let me see," He took the papers from Mick, _needing_ to see this _thing_ Mick had inside him. _"Fuck,"_ He whispered. He saw drawings of people hunched over, people in wheelchairs, and spines that looked like curved bamboo. "Why didn't you tell us you were in so much pain, Mick?"

"Come on, can you imagine if I told you guys when I met you? _'Hey I'm Mick, that loud, rude, aggressive guitar player you called for! I cam play for you, but by the way I'm old as shit and have chronic arthritis that makes me a fucking hunch back!'"_ His words held venom.

"Mick, you gotta tell Nikki though! He loves you, more than I've ever seen him love anyone! He would _never_ degrade you, _fuck_ , you know he's fucking paranoid you'll be the one to leave if anything!"

"He's gonna be _scared_ though. He's gonna worry, and I don't _want_ him to worry. If people find out they'll pity me, and I fucking _hate_ that! I'm _fine_. Yeah it hurts and yeah I can't move the way I exactly should, but I can't do shit about it other than drink the pain away. When it gets worse I'll deal with it then, but for now I just want to love that wild bastard and play my guitar." Mick ended his speech with a growl, and aggressively wiped at his eyes. Tommy watched him choke on a sob once, before stuffing it back down with a clogged inhale.

He leaned over, dropping the papers in his lap, and hugged Mick the best he could. Mick acted like he wanted to push Tommy away for a moment, but gave in just as fast and melted against the younger man. He silently cried against Tommy's shoulder, wrapping his arms around the drummer's skinny frame. He held him _tight_ , terrified he'd slip away.

Holding Mick brought Tommy the same great peace he felt when he held Nikki. Mick was _home_ , Mick was his _family_. He _loved_ Mick, and as he slowly stroked a hand down the older man's back, wondering about all the evil brewing deep inside it, he felt the unconditional need to _protect_ him. He never wanted Mick to feel so broken and beat ever again in their wild lives.

_"We love you Mick,"_ He whispered into Mick's dark hair. The guitarist said nothing, simply sighing a final sob.

_"Love you too, dumbass."_ They choked on a weak laugh together, and Tommy held him tighter for a moment more before pulling away. Mick met his eyes as they sat mere inches apart from each other. Tommy blink slowly, hoping his tears weren't as big as they felt. His lips cracked into a heartfelt smile, and the gorgeous sight was enough to bring one to Mick's mouth as well. Mick's eyes cleared fast as he stared into the gorgeous doe gaze of his bandmate.

_"Uh... Mick?"_ Tommy breathed. He barely spoke, almost too quiet for the other to hear. Mick didn't respond. His hands slid from Tommy's shoulders down to his sides, hovering over his soft shirt. The touch made Tommy's eyelids fall slightly, as he examined Mick's tear stained face.

_"Thanks, Tommy..."_ Mick finally whispered. Tomy smiled a little wider, gnawing on his bottom lip. He looked away to Mick's shirt for a moment before meeting those icy eyes yet again.

_"Anything, Mick..."_ He breathed. There was a shift in the air between them, but before Mick could speak again Tommy met his lips. He kissed Mick slow, gentle, so very polite as he sucked sofy on the older man's bottom lip. Tommy kissed him with caution, melting into the feeling as Mick still held him close. The guitarist didn't move against his mouth, allowing Tommy to kiss him freely.

Mick pulled away first before Tommy could move any deeper, and blinked at the younger man as he removed his hands from his sides. His grin faltered slightly as mixed emotions filled his eyes.

"Uh, Tommy-" He started softly but Tommy beat him to it, suddenly realizing what he'd done.

"Oh, fuck... _Fuck!_ I'm so sorry Mick! _Holy shit, I didn't mean to do that!"_ He sat back as if Mick was suddenly made of fire, pressed against the door as he felt tears wet his eyes once more.

"Hey, it's okay," Mick swallowed as he stared at Tommy. He forced away any emotions that may have given away what he was feeling. Tommy looked to the floor, crying harder than he wished he was.

_"I need to go home,"_ He whimpered. Mick said nothing, only sitting still.

"Tommy," He finally said sternly. Tommy refused to look at him. "T-Bone, look. I'm not surprised you feel this way," He sighed softly. Tommy had to glance at him at that.

"W-Why?" He asked weakly. Mick stared at him a moment, void of any emotion. He turned to face the wheel, tucking the papers back in the folder. Tommy silently handed him back the x-ray and packet, terrified of what Mick was about to say.

_"I know how you feel about Nikki."_

Tommy wasn't expecting that, and felt his heart skip a beat.

"How?" He gasped. Mick sighed, and gripped the envelope.

"I've known for a while now... It's pretty obvious. _I see the way you look at him."_ Mick tilted his head away, shrouding his face from view. "I mean, yeah it's hard not to look at him like he's the greatest thing on Earth, but..." He shrugged. Tommy could tell he was hurting, _hurting_ _hard_ , as he spoke again. _"I was actually worried he'd fall for you instead, eventually._ I know he loves you too. I watch you guys; you have a beautiful friendship, something really deep. But I can feel your longing for him... I've heard you cry at night, after we've gone to bed. And when we had sex, I saw you looking at him like he was the most beautiful person you'd ever seen." Mick was whispering, and Tommy felt his heart nearly crack in two.

_"I think you just like me because I'm with him, Tommy."_ Mick forced it out. It was painful to say, and painful to hear.

Tommy thought for a moment, patiently waiting for both their tears to dry yet again.

_Did he love Mick?_

He imagined holding Mick's hand. Imagined laying with him at night. Snuggling up to him in bed, and kissing him awake. He thought about brushing his long black hair away from his pale face, and kissing his lips again. He wondered what it may feel like to lay on his chest, and listen to his heartbeat. Hold his hand as they drove. Hold his hand when they went out, or walked down the beach. Hold his hand as he slid inside of him, and made passionate love.

He smiled crooked with a silent cry as he realized it.

It would feel _amazing._ He knew it would, and wanted to find out for himself. And in each daydream of laying close to Mick, Nikki was always there too. Holding his other hand. Petting his face as Mick fucked him from behind. Kissing Tommy's neck while Tommy kissed Mick.

"I don't know..." Tommy shrugged with a smile. Mick looked at him. Tommy met his eyes, and gently took the envelope from Mick's hands. "I didn't think it was possible to fall in love with two people, but..." He huffed a sweet laugh. Mick kept up some careful caution as his lips twitched. Tommy could tell they wanted to smile, so he kept going. _"I think I did._ I want to be with both of you. I'm done lying about it. I fell in love with Nikki first, and then I fell in love with you too. I understand if you guys don't feel the same, I didn't expect you to.. I won't be mad, I _promise_. I just think it'd be best for me to move out if not, you know? I don't want to fuck up what you guys have. Nikki already knows how I feel, and..." Tommy finally sighed with a shrug. "I don't know how upset he is, honestly. I only told him I loved him, and he said he would tell you, so..." He slowly lost his words, but luckily Mick continued for him.

_"He never told me that..."_ He whispered. Tommy blushed, and wondered why. Mick didn't sound mad. In fact, he slowly smiled as he looked out of the windshield. _"Let's go home, T-Bone. We got some stuff to talk about, huh?"_ Mick grinned at him. It was real, genuine, and made Tommy smile too.

_"Yeah,"_ He smirked. Mick started the car again, and together they drove home.

The ride back was silent, with old rock playing on the radio that Tommy had never heard before. Mick seemed to be familiar with it though as he tapped his thumb on the steering wheel. _Or maybe that was just his nerves._ Tommy cradled the papers against his stomach, watching LA pass by as the sun moved across the sky.  
  


The first thing Mick did when they parked at the apartment was look to Tommy's lap, at the papers. He stared at them with worry, so Tommy spoke for him.

"Well... I _was_ gonna make you tell Nikki tonight, but." He tossed them into the backseat. _"Maybe one fuckin' big news at a time, yeah?"_ He laughed. Mick chuckled with him as they got out of the car. He grunted as they popped the hood and pulled the amp out. "Want me to get Nikki to help us?" Tommy asked kindly. He was suddenly aware of how painful it must be for Mick to lift such things, especially up the stairs.

"I'm fine, T-Bone. One problem at a time, right?" He laughed shortly. Tommy smirked at him as they lugged it upstairs and through the door.

"Holy _FUCK_ there you guys are! Where the hell did you go, San Diego!? I though you fuckers _died_ , I even called Vince to fucking see if you were at his house! Don't just _disappear_ like that, you made me _scared-"_

Mick cut Nikki's angry rambling off with a deep kiss to his lips. He held Nikki tight, with both his hands cupping the bass player's cheeks. Tommy watched them as he pulled the amp against the wall, smiling sweetly. Mick kissed Nikki a little longer, making sure to get his point across before he pulled away and hugged him.

_"Sorry baby,"_ He whispered against Nikki's neck. Nikki was rather satisfied with that apology and kissed Mick's head as he hugged him back. He was surprised Mick was displaying such strong affection in front of Tommy, and that Tommy hadn't even made a joke about it.

_"Yeah, well... just don't dip like that, you know? You should have been back like an hour ago."_ Nikki mubbled against his hair. He decided to take advantage of the very rare moment and pulled Mick back in for another heavenly kiss.

Mick pulled away after a moment with a wet pop, and moved to sit on the couch. He looked up at Tommy, who jumped over the back and sat down on the other side. Nikki was confused, but quickly walked over with a sniff to sit between them.

The three were silent in the heavy moment, starting at the muted MTV channel.

_"Hey. Gotta tell you something,"_ Mick finally whispered near Nikki's head. Nikki turned to him, leaning against his side as he waited for Mick to speak. The guitarist looked at Tommy for a moment, so Tommy nodded.

_Here goes nothing._

"I know about Tommy's feelings for you," Mick murmured. Nikki sat up fast, looking nothing short of fearful at Mick.

_"Nothing happened!"_ He stated loudly. He was squirming with worry, and it made Tommy feel painfully guilty. "I didn't kiss him or anything, and I swear I didn't know when I let him watch us! I didn't find out until after!"

"Nikki, it's okay," Mick took his hands, holding them tight in his lap. _"Shhh, it's fine,"_ He cooed while he pet Nikki's knuckles. The bassist was quiet, trying to relax again as Mick continued. "We had a talk on the way home."

"About what?" Nikki glanced back at Tommy before immediately returning Mick's gaze. Mick smiled at him, and leaned in to kiss his forehead.

_"I know how you feel about him, too."_ He whispered it against Nikki's warm skin.

"W-What? No, I _swear_ I don't love him, I love _you_ , Mick! I mean yeah I love him like a friend, but I promise I'd never cheat on you!" Nikki was starting to panic, gripping Mick's hands tight enough to turn both their knuckles white. _"I love you, I promise, I wouldn't trade you for anything in the world-"_

"Hey, _shhh,"_ Mick had to calm him again, this time petting over his hair. He glanced at Tommy. Tommy looked at Nikki, and Nikki looked between both of them. Seeing Nikki worry over such a powerful thing and be so fearful of them made Tommy's heart _ache_ to comfort him.

_But not yet_. Mick breathed gently, stroking Nikki's cheek with his thumb. He let the words cook down deep in his chest before finally speaking them on a soft tone. He smiled at his boyfriend, with all the love in the world pouring through his ocean eyes.

_"You don't have to, Nikki."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY! Whatever will happen now! Stay tuned as soon I figure it out!


End file.
